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^ 



THE 



LIFE 



CARDINAL WOLSEY. 



GEORGE CAVENDISH, 



HIS GENTLE5IAX USHER. 



FROM THE ORIGINAL AUTOGRAPH MANUSCRIPT. 



NOTES AND OTHER ILLUSTRATIONS, 



SAMUEL WELLER SINGER, F.S A. 




SECOND EDITION. 



LONDON: 

rUlNTEO BY THOMAS DAVISON', 

FOR HARDING AND LEPARD, PALL MALL KAST. 



MDCCCXXVII. 




b4 



i\.^ 



n 




TO HIS GRACE 

THE DUKE OF DEVONSHIRE, 

THIS REVIVAL OF A MOST INTERESTING 

SPECIMEN OF COTEMPORARY BIOGRAPHY, 

BY HIS COLLATERAL ANCESTOR 

GEORGE CAVENDISH, 

IS WITH PERMISSION DEDICATED 

BV MIS GRACE'S OBLIGED AND 

OBEDIENT HUMBLE SERVANT, 



S. W. SINGER. 



PREFACE. 



Perhaps few periods of English history 
are more remarkable than that which com- 
prised the fortunes of Wolsey ; a period 
which had to boast the most illustrious 
potentates who have ever filled the thrones 
of Europe. The age of Henry was also 
that of Leo, of Charles, and of Francis : — 
a period big with political events of sin- 
gular interest : — the captivity of the French 
monarch and of the Koman Pontiff, — the 
sacking of Rome, — the divorce of Queen 
Katherine, — and the train of circumstances 
which led the way to the Reformation, — 
Events in which Wolsey's hand may be 
often traced, and in some of which he was 
a principal actor. The record of his life 
and its vicissitudes, — his humble origin — 
his towering fortunes, and his sudden fall, 
— could not well fail of interesting even in 



PREFACE. 



ordinary hands : — But he has been ex- 
tremely fortunate in his biographer. The 
narrative contained in the following pages, 
of course, only affords a glance at these 
events ; it is not the work of a professed 
historiographer, but the production of a 
simple-hearted and honest eyewitness of 
what he relates. George Cavendish was 
the faithful attendant of this princely pre- 
late in his triumphant as well as in his de- 
clining fortunes :— One who failed him not 
in his adversity, but shed over his fallen 
master the tears of affection, performed 
for him the last sad offices of humanity, 
and then in his retirement sat down with 
honest indignation to vindicate him from 
slander, and to transmit to future ages a 
faithful picture of his life, with a sacred 
regard to truth. 

It is this circumstance which renders his 
work so much more interesting than any 
thing of a similar kind with which I am 
acquainted. We are here occasionally in- 
troduced to the secret recesses of the pri- 
vate life of one of the most distinguished 
statesmen the world ever saw ; of one who 



PREFACE. IX 

not only divided the sway of empire Avith 
his monarch, but who governed or in- 
tluenced the conduct alternately of France 
and Spain ; whose power for a time was 
almost unlimited, and whose magnificence 
has never been exceeded. 

There is a sincere and impartial ad- 
herence to truth, a reality in Cavendish's 
narrative, which bespeaks the confidence 
of his reader, and very much increases his 
pleasure. It is a work without pretension, 
but full of natural eloquence, devoid of the 
formality of a set rhetorical composition, 
unspoiled by the affectation of that clas- 
sical manner in which all biography and 
history of old time was prescribed to be 
written, and which often divests such re- 
cords of the attraction to be found in the 
conversational style of Cavendish. There 
is an unspeakable charm in the naivete of 
his language — his occasional appeals to his 
reader — and the dramatic form of his nar- 
ration, in which he gives the very words 
of the interlocutors, and a lively picture of 
their actions, making us as it were spec- 
tators of the scenes he describes. Indeed 



PREFACE. 



our great poet has literally followed him 
in several passages of his King Henry VIII. 
merely putting his language into verse. 
Add to this the historical importance of 
the work, as the only sure and authentic 
source of information upon many of the 
most interesting events of that reign ; from 
which all historians have largely drawn, 
(through the secondary medium of Holin- 
shed and Stowe, who adopted Cavendish's 
narrative,) and its intrinsic value need not 
be more fully expressed. 

Upon the death of the Cardinal his 
master, Cavendish relates that the king- 
gave him the same appointment, of Gen- 
tleman Usher, in his service, which he had 
filled in the household of Wolsey: yet at 
the close of his work he tells us that he re- 
turned to his own home in the country. 
Whether his retirement was only tem- 
porary, or whether he then took his final 
leave of the court, we have no exact means 
of ascertaining. In his poems he does not 
mention having served the king, yet dwells 
upon his faithful services to the Cardinal ; 
but the information he displays upon the 



PREFACE. XI 

principal subsequent events of the reign of 
Henry, and that of Edward VI. seems to 
lead to the conclusion that he was a spec- 
tator of them. In retirement he would 
have hardly been able to obtain the ac- 
quaintance with public affairs which his 
poems show that he possessed. The cir- 
cumstance of his sitting down to write in 
the reign of Philip and Mary \ " to eschewe 
all ociosite/' would seem to point to that 
as the period of his retirement, or other- 
wise his conscience had long slumbered 
before it accused him that his " tyme he 
spent in idelnes." 

The fate of this Life of Wolsey has been 
indeed singularly unfortunate ; after re- 
maining in manuscript nearly a century, 
it was first printed in 1641, for party pur- 
poses, but in such a garbled form as to 
be hardly recognized for the same work, 
abridgment and interpolation having been 
used with an unsparing hand. Its author 
too had been robbed of his literary honours, 
which were bestowed upon his younger 

' See the Life of Wolsey, page 102, where he speaks of 
King Philip now our sovereign lord. 



XU PREFACE. 

and more fortunate brother Sir William 
Cavendish, until the year 1814, when his 
cause was ably advocated in a Dissertation 
by the Rev. Joseph Hunter, F. A. S. author 
of the History of Hallamshire. I am in- 
debted to the kind intervention of my 
friend J. H. Markland, Esq. for the pri- 
vilege of reprinting thatDissertation, which 
the reader will find at the commencement 
of the volume, and will, I doubt not, be 
gratified in the perusal. It affords the best 
example of clear argumentative solution of 
a literary paradox from circumstantial evi- 
dence with which I am acquainted, at the 
same time it is so skilfully interwoven with 
curious matter bearing upon the question, 
as not only to divest it of the sterile cha- 
racter with which disquisitions of the same 
kind from less able hands have been 
marked, but to render it very interesting. 
I owe Mr. Hunter my best acknowledge- 
ments for the ready manner in which the 
favour was conferred, and I look to have 
the thanks of those, who are yet unac- 
quainted with it, for uniting this tract 
with the work of George Cavendish, from 



PREFACE. XIU 

which it should never again be disjoined. 
For all that relates to the Life of Wolsey 
and its author, therefore, I shall beg leave 
to refer to this source of information ', and 
it will onl}^ remain for me to give an 
account of the present edition. 

Having purchased two valuable ancient 
manuscript copies of the work, one of 
them from among the duplicates of the late 
Duke of Norfolk's library^, I conceived 



- The Norfolk MS. is defective at the beginning, one leaf 
being lost, which contained a portion of the prologue ; there 
is consequently no title to the work. It has a blank leaf at 
the place where the Incnnce usually occur in the manuscript 
copies. The hand- writing is of the reign of Elizabeth, and 
the text corresponds very nearly with that of Dr. Words- 
worth : the orthography is not the same. This MS. is in its 
original binding, and has the name of its ancient possessor, 
Henrie Farleigh, stamped on each cover. The other manu- 
script copy in my possession is carefully ^vritten, but ap- 
parently of more recent date ; it has the following title in 
German text hand prefixed : 

^^e aifc of i«astct 

®|)oma0 fiSlolitJcg 

^rt&til0f)opi)c of ¥or&c 

ant) ©arDinall 

torittctt bj) 

CGcotgc @al)enli{$]^ 

\)H fficntlcman SSsIjer. 

The same chasm is marked in this JMS, as in the former, two 



XIV PREFACE. 

that the text might be very much im- 
proved by collation of these and the 
several manuscripts in private and public 
libraries. Upon naming the design to my 
friend Mr. Douce, he mentioned to me a 
very curious copy in the possession of Mr. 
Lloyd, which contained some verses ap- 
parently by the same author, and which 
from this circumstance might have some 
claim to be considered the author's original 
autograph. Upon application to that gen- 
tleman, he, with a liberality which calls 
for my warmest thanks, immediately placed 
the manuscript in my hands. I at once 
saw that its pretensions were undoubted, 
and that it contained not only a more 
valuable text of the Life, but a series of 
poems, evidently in the hand writing of 
the author, with occasional corrections 
and interlineations, and thus attested : — 
" per le Aiictor G. C." in numerous places. 

pages and a half being left blank, but the imperfect passages 
at the conclusion of the hunt, and at the commencement of 
"elation concerning the libels on Wolsey, are completed 
by a few words is they noAV stand in Dr. Wordsworth's text. 
The variations between these copies are chiefly literal ; the 
orthography is in many respects different. 



PREFACE. XV 



On the first blank leaf is written in the 
same hand with the body of the manu- 
script, " Vincit qui patitur c^ G. C. Maxima 
viiidicta pacie7icia ;" and then " Cavendysh 
de Cavendysh in Com. SufF. gent." and 
beneath, " I began this booke the 4. day of 
Novemb'." On the reverse of the same leaf 
is another Latin sentence and the motto 
of Cavendish, Cavendo tutus. On a suc- 
ceeding blank leaf is the name of a former 
possessor, C. Rossington ^, under which is 
written in another hand, " i. e. Clement 
Rossington of Dronfield, Gent, whose son 
Mr. James Rossington gave me this MS.'' 
It is remarkable that it should have passed 



^ Mr Hunter informs me that Clement Rossington the 
elder, who must be here alluded to, died in 1737. He ac- 
quired the manor of Dronfield by his marriage with Sarah 
Burton, sister and co-heir of Ralph Burton, of Dronfield, Esq. 
Avho died in 1714. The father of Ralph and Sarah Burton 
was Francis Burton, also of Dronfield, who was aged twenty- 
five at the visitation of Derbyshire, 1662, and the mother, 
Helen, daughter and heir of Cassibelan Burton, son of William 
Burton the distinguished antiquary and historian of Leicester- 
shire. There is good reason to believe that the Rossingtons were 
not likely to purchase abook of this curiosity,and it is theri|.-.re 
more than probable that it once formed part of the library 
of William Burton, other books which had been his having 
descended to them. 



XVI PREFACE. 

into the possession of a person in Der- 
byshire. Those who have made Sir Wil- 
liam Cavendish the author would have 
seized upon this circumstance with avidity 
as lending colour to their assertion, and 
would probably have argued that the ini- 
tials G. C. by which Geo7'ge Cavendish has 
attested it as his production in so many 
places, were intended to designate Gidiel- 
mus Cavendish. Mr. Hunter has, however, 
settled the question beyond the possibility 
of dispute ; it is sufficient to remark here 
that Sir William Cavendish died in 1557, 
and that this manuscript affords unequi- 
vocal evidence that the writer survived 
Queen Mary, who died at the close of 1558. 
Unfortunately the first leaf of the text of 
the Life is wanting. At the end of the 
Author's Address to his Book, with which 
the poems conclude, is the date of the 
completion of the manuscript, which will 
be found on the plate of fac-similes : 

Finie et compile le xxiiij jour de Junij. 
A". Regnor. Philippi Rex fif Regine Marie iiij": Sc »'? 
Per le Auctor G. C. 

Noviis Rex, nova lex, NoA^a sola Regina, probz. pciie riiina. 



PREFACE. 



This invaluable acquisition made me 
at once change my plan, and proceed 
earnestly to the work of transcription ; 
feeling convinced that all other manu- 
scripts were, in comparison, of little au- 
thority, I determined to follow this, as 
most entitled to confidence. Upon com- 
paring it with my own manuscript copies 
and the text of Dr. Wordsworth, I found 
that it supplied the chasm which, for some 
unknown reason, is found in all the manu- 
scripts that have come under my notice. 
The suppressed passages contain the de- 
scription of a boar hunt, and an account 
of the libels written against Wolsey by the 
French* ; the imperfection is generally in- 
dicated by a blank space being left, which 
in Mr. Douce's MS. is accompanied by a 
note saying, " in this vacante place there 
wanteth copy." It was at first my inten- 
tion to give various readings, but upon 
closer comparison I found this would have 



' Vide pp. 181, 182, 183, and for another addition pp. 166, 
167, 168 ; in the present edition the passages are inchided in 
brackets. 

C 



XVlll PREFACE. 

been impracticable, because the text, as it 
appears in Dr. Wordsworth's edition and 
in the common manuscript copies, has 
been almost entirely rewritten ; changes 
in the structure of the phrase and verbal 
discrepancies occur in almost every line. 
Under such circumstances I was obliged 
to content myself with indicating the most 
important variations, I mean such as in 
any way affected the meaning of the text. 
I have however availed myself of my own 
manuscript copies, or of Dr. Wordsworth's 
edHion, to supply an occasional word or 
phrase which seemed necessary to the sense 
of a passage, but have always carefully 
distinguished these additions, by enclosing 
them in brackets. 

It is not easy to account for the ex- 
traordinary difference in the language of 
the original autograph copj^ and the later 
manuscripts, by any other means than a 
supposition that the copyist thought he 
could improve the style of Cavendish, 
which is indeed sometimes involved and 
obscure, but many of the discrepancies 
have clearly arisen from the difficulty of 



PREFACE. XIX 

reading his hand-writing, and the sub- 
stitutions most frequently occur where the 
original manuscript is the most illegible. 
It is scarcely probable that Cavendish 
wrote another copy, for he was already, 
as he himself saj^s, old, and probably did 
not survive the date of the completion of 
this MS. above a year. There are no ad- 
ditions of the least importance in the more 
recent copies ; the few which occur have 
been carefully noted. 

Of the Poems, to which I have given the 
title of Metrical Visions, no other copy 
is known to exist. They have little or no 
merit as verses, being deficient in all the 
essential points of invention, expression 
and rhythm, and it is to be regretted that 
Cavendish, who knew so well how to in- 
terest us by his artless narration of facts 
in prose, should have invoked the muse in 
vain. He seems to have been sensible of 
his deficiency, and says very truly 

" I must wTite plain, colours I have none to paint." 

In the former limited impression these 
Metrical Visions were printed, but as they 

c 2 



XX PREFACE. 

have little in them to interest the general 
reader, it has been deemed advisable to 
give only a specimen in the Appendix to 
the present edition ; the omission enabling 
the publishers to compress the work into 
one volume, and thereby to make it more 
generally accessible. 

I have ventured to take the spelling 
and pointing into my own hands ; but in 
no instance have I presumed to alter the 
disposition of the text. I have reason to 
think that the judicious reader will not be 
displeased at what is done in this respect ; 
it is no more than what has been effected 
for Shakspeare and other of our ancient 
classics. The orthography of Cavendish, 
as the specimen given from his poems will 
evince, was exceedingly uncouth and un- 
settled ; retaining it could have answered 
no good end ; those who wish to have 
recourse to the work for philological pur- 
poses would most assuredly prefer the au- 
thority of manuscripts ; and the disguise 
of old spelling might have deterred many 
from reading this interesting narrative, to 
whom it will now afford pleasure. 



PREFACE. XXI 

The remaining portion of the volume 
comprises a very curious Memoir of Queen 
Anne Boleyn by George Wyatt, grandson 
of Sir Thomas Wyatt, the poet, containing 
some particulars relating to that unfor- 
tunate lady not elsewhere noted. It must 
be considered a valuable supplement to 
the notice of her contained in the Life of 
Wolsey. In the Appendix is also given a 
Parallel between Wolsey and Laud, written 
at the time when Cavendish's work first 
issued from the press ; though its purpose 
was to excite prejudice against Laud, it is 
not deficient in interest, and is conducted 
with tolerable temper. The original being 
of extreme rarity, and of sufiicient brevity, 
I have thouo;ht that it would be an ag^ree- 
able addition to this work. The few letters 
and papers which are added were necessary 
illustrations of passages in the text and 
notes, and though some of them are to be 
found in books readily accessible, they are 
not placed in connexion with the work to 
which they relate without sufiicient reasons, 
which the reader will find stated in the 
preliminary notices ; it is therefore unne- 



XXIV PREFACE. 

My excellent and highly valued friend 
Francis Douce, Esq. with his accustomed 
kindness, threw open to me his valuable 
library, and placed in my hands a very 
curious manuscript*' of this Life, em- 
bellished with spirited drawings in outline 
of some of the principal occurrences, from 
which three prints have been accurately 
copied as appropriate embellishments of 
the book. With these advantages, I have 
reason to hope that this edition will be 
found in all respects worthy of the singular 
merit of the work, and of the auspices 
under which it goes forth to the world. 

Box Hill, 

June \, 1825. 



'^ This manuscript is carefully written in a volume ^vith 
other curious transcripts, and has marginal notes by the 
transcriber, who appears to have been a puritan, from his 
exclamations against pomp and ceremony. At the end he 
writes, " Copied forth by S. B. anno 1578, the first day of 
September." 



CONTENTS. 



Page 

Tin; Editor's Preface vii 

Who wrote Cavendish's Life of Wolsey ? A 
Dissertation. By The Rev. Joseph Hunter, 

F. S. A 1 

The Life of Wolsey by George Cavendish . . 16 



APPENDIX. 

Extracts from the Life of Anne Boleigne, by 
George Wyatt, Esq. Son of Sir Thomas 
Wyatt the younger 417 

Six Letters, supplementary to the above Memoir; 
containing Particulars of the Arrest of Queen Anne 
Boleyn, and her Behaviour while in the Tower. 

LETTER I. 

Sir William Kingston lo Secretary Cro7nrvell.—lJ ]ion 

Queen Anne's Committal to the Tower .... 451 

LETTER II. 
Sir William Kingston to Secretary Cromivcll. — On 

Queen Anne's Behaviour in Prison 453 



XXVI CONTENTS. 

LETTER III. 

Page 
Sir William Kingston to Secretary Cromwell. — Further 

Particulars 456 

LETTER IV. 

Edvoard Baynton to the Lord Treasurer. — Declaring 
that only Mark will confess any Thing against 
Queen Anne 458 

LETTER V. 

Sir JVilliam Kingston to Secretary Cromwell, May 16, 
1536. — Upon the Preparations for the Execution 
of Lord Rochford and Queen Anne 459 

LETTER VL 

Sir TVilUam Kingston to the same. — Upon the same 

Subject 460 



ORIGINAL LETTERS, 

ILLUSTRATIVE OF PASSAGES IN THE LIFE OF WOLSEY. 

LETTER VIL 

Henry Percy, Earl of Northumberland, to his Bedfellow 
and Cosyn Thomas Arundel. — Complains of In- 
juries received at the Hands of Cardinal Wolsey. 
Humble Solicitations for his Favour in certain 
Matters 462 

LETTER VIIL 

The same to Secretary Cromivcll. — Denying a Contract, 
or Promise of INIarriage, having ever existed be- 
tween Anne Bolcyn and himself 464 



CONTENTS. XXVll 

LETTER IX. 

Page 
(^ueen Catherine of Arragon and King Henry VIII. to 
Cardinal Wolsey. — A joint Letter, about the coming 
of the Legate, and Expressions of Kindness . . 465 

LETTER X. 

Anne Boleyn to Cardinal Wolsey. — ITianking him for 

his diligent Pains in the Affair of the Divorce . . 467 

LETTER XI. 

The same to the same. — The same Subject ; and the 

coming of the Legate 468 

LETTER XII. 

Cardinal Wolsey, in his Distress, to Thomas Cromivell . 469 

LETTER XIIL 

Cardinal Wolsey to Secretary Gardener 471 

LETTER XIV. 

The same to the same. — The miserable Condition he is 
in, his Decay of Health, and Poverty, and desiring 
some Relief at the King's Hands. A melancholy 
Picture 474 

LETTER XV. 

The same to the same. — Desiring Gardener to write and 
give him an Account of the King's Intentions in 
regard to him 476 

LETTER XVL 

The same to the same. — Requesting Gardener to cxjiedite 
the Making out his Pardon in large and ample 
Form as granted by tlie King 477 



XXVm CONTENTS. 

LETTER XVII. 

Page 

The same to the same. — In favour of the Provost of 

Beverley, and desiring Gardener to intercede with 

the King for his Colleges^ 479 

LETTER XVIIL 

The same to the same. — Desiring his Favour in a Suit 

against him for a Debt of £700. by one Strangwish 481 

LETTER XIX. 

Lettre de M. de Bellay Evesque de Bayomie a M. le 
Grant Maistre, ] 7 Oct. 1529. — Containing an in- 
teresting Picture of the Cardinal in his Troubles, 
and desiring the Intercession of the King of France, 
&c. in his Favour 482 

LETTER XX. 

Thomas Alvard to Thomas Cromivell. — Containing a 
genuine Picture of one of the last Interviews with 
which Wolsey was favoured by Henry VIII. . . 487 



A Parallel between Cardinal Wolsey and 

Archbishop Laud, first printed in 1641 . . 490 



CONTENTS. 



ILLUSTRATIVE DOCUMENTS. 

Page 
The Will of Thomas Wolsey, Father to the Cardinal . 502 

Fisher, Bishop of Rochester, Notice of his Book against 

the Divorce of Henry and Catherine of Arragon . .504 

The Schedule appended to the King's Gift to the Car- 
dinal after his Forfeiture by the Premunire . . . 507 

A Memoryall of such Communication as my Lorde 
Legatts Grace had with the Queenes Almoner.— 
Containing a circumstantial Account of Queen 
Katherine's Objections to have her Cause finally 
judged by the Legates, &c 509 

Itinerary of Cardinal Wolsey's last Journey to the 

North 516 

The Comming and Reseyvyng of the Lord Cardinal! into 
Powlcs for the Escaping of Pope Clement VII. 
A. D. 1527. A" Regni Henrici VIIL xix" . . 519 

The Ceremonial of receiving the Cardinal's Hat, sent 

by the Pope to Wolsey 522 

Specimen of the Poems of Grorge CAVKNDisn . . . 52G 



DIRECTIONS FOR PLACING THE PLATES. 



Fac Simile of the Original Autograph MS. to face this page. 

REFERENCE tO THE PLATE. 

No. 1. Part of the Text of the commencement of the 
Life, with the attestation ^m?s quod G. C. 

No. 2. Last Stanza of the Author's Address to his Book, 
with the subjoined inscription of the date of the 
completion of the IMS. See Preface, p. xvi. 

Portrait of Anne Boleyn ...... to face the Title 

Portrait of Wolsey ^.61 

Portrait of King Henry VIII 79 

Cardinal Wolsey in progress 149 

Dukes of Suffolk and Norfolk receive the great seal from 

Wolsey ' 24G 

Cromwell. Earl of Essex 2.58 

Tokens sent to Wolsey by the King and Anne Boleyn 288 
Portrait of Sir Thomas Wyatt 424 






Y./. 

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(y^^mf^^:^ My^i^y^^ j^^'^^oj^/ 

(d-yoJ^/f^ttd tlW^DMeft-WOv* hwUti febi«.9- QinS-m ^vmoitrff^ 




.A? 2. 






Y'.i. 



d^irP€f&W^ ^ tPcn^^4^j9*^/ 



WHO WROTE CAVENDISH'S 
LIFE OF WOLSEY? 

FIRST PRINTED IN MDCCCXIV. 



When a writer undertakes to give cuique suum 
in a question of literary property, if he would 
avoid the ridicule which they deservedly incur 
who raise a controversy only that they may have 
the honour of settUng it, he must show that there 
are more claimants than ona on the property he 
means to assign. 

This then will be our first object. 

Let the reader turn to the ' Bioffra- „ 

^ To whom the 

phia Britannica,' and look out the arti- Biographia 

o- -f '11 • attributes it. 

cle ' Sir William Cavendish.' He will 
find in either of the editions what follows in the 
words of Dr. Campbell, the original projector of 
that work, or rather of his friend Mr. Morant, 
the historian of Essex, for it does not appear 
that the later editors have either reconsidered 
the article, or added to it any thing material. 
Sir William Cavendish, we are told, " had a li- 
beral education given him by his father, who 
settled u])on him also certain lands in the county 

15 



SJ WHO WROTE 

of Suffolk ; but made a much better provision 
for him by procuring him to be admitted into 
the family of the great Cardinal Wolsey, upon 
whom he waited in quality of gentleman usher 
of his chamber."' — — " As Mr. Cavendish was 
the Cardinal's countryman, and the Cardinal had 
a great kindness for his father, he took him early 
into his confidence, and showed him upon all 
occasions very particular marks of kindness and 
respect ^" Several extracts from the Life of 
Wolsey are then produced to show the honour- 
able nature of this employment. Mr. Caven- 
dish's faithfid adherence to Wolsey in his fall 
receives due encomium : and we are then fa- 
voured with a detail of Mr. Cavendish's public 
services after the Cardinal's death, his rich re- 
wards, his knighthood, marriages, and issue, in 
w^hich the writer of the article has followed Sir 
William Dugdale, and the Peerages. Towards 
the conclusion Cavendish is spoken of in his 
character of an author, a character which alone 
could entitle him to admission into that temple 
of British worthies. We are told that " he ap- 
pears from his ivrltings to have been a man of 
great honour and integrity, a good subject to his 
prince, a true lover of his country, and one who 
preserved to the last a very high reverence and 

' Kippis's Edit. vol. iii. p. 3'21. 



CAVENDISH S WOLSEY? 3 

esteem for his old master and first patron Car- 
dinal Wolsey, whose life he ivrote in the latter 
part of his own, and there gives him a very high 

character." " This work of his remained long 

in manuscript, and the original some years ago 
was in the hands of the Duke of Kingston, sup- 
posed to be given by the author to his daughter, 
who married into that family. It had been seen 
and consulted by the Lord Herbert when he 
wrote his history of the Reign of King ^^ ^^^^ 



tin- 



Lord Herbert. 



Henry VHI., but he was either 
acquainted with our author's Christian riame, or 
mistook him for his elder brother George Caven- 
dish of Glemsford in the county of Suffolk, Esq. 
for by that name his lordship calls him : but it 
appears plainly from what he says that the history 
he made use of was our author's." p. 324. 

Such is the reputation in which the Biographia 
Britannica is held in the world, and indeed not 
undeservedly, that most writers of English bio- 
graphy have recourse to it for information : and 
with its authority those among them are usually 
well satisfied, who neither value, nor are willing 
to undertake, the toilsome researches of the ge- 
nealogist and the antiquary. Another such work, 
for an illustrious class of English worthies, is 
' The Peerage of England,* begun by the re- 
spectable and ill rewarded Arthur Collins, and 
continued by successive editors with as much 



4 ' WHO WROTE 

exactness as could reasonably have been ex- 
To whom the pectccl. Tlic scvcral editions of this 
Peerages. ^q^\^ from that of 1712, in one volume, 
to that of 1812, in nine, contain the same ac- 
count of Sir William Cavendish's attendance 
upon Wolsey, of his tried attachment to him, 
and of his lasting gratitude to the memory of his 
old master, displayed in writing apologetical me- 
moirs of his life. At the very opening of the 
pages devoted to the Devonshire family, in the 
recent edition of this work, we are told that 
" the potent and illustrious family of Cavendish, 
of which, in the last century, two branches ar- 
rived at dukedoms, laid the foundation of their 
future greatness, first, on the share of abbey 
lands obtained at the dissolution of monasteries 
by Sir William Cavendish, who had been gentle- 
man usher to Cardinal Wolsey, who died in 1557, 
and afterwards by the abilities, the rapacity, and 
the good fortune of Elizabeth his widow, who 
remarried George Earl of Shrewsbury, and died 
in 16072." And afterwards, in the account of 
the said Sir William Cavendish, w^e are told 
nearly in the words used by Morant, that " to 
give a more lasting testimony of his gratitude to 
the Cardinal, he di'ew up a fair account of his 
life and death, which he wrote in the reign of 

^ ^'ol. i. \\ .302. 



CAVENDISH S Vv'OLSEY ? 5 

Queen Mary : whereof the oldest copy is in the 
hands of the noble family of Pierrej)oint, into 
which the author's daughter was married. Lord 
Herbert of Cherbury, in the Life and Reign of 
King Henry VIIL, quotes the manuscript in 
many places, hut mentions George Cavendish to 
he the author of it ; which, from divers circum- 
stcmces, we may conclude to he a mistake. In the 
year 1641 it was printed, and again in 1667^." 
A full account is then given of the public employ- 
ments and honourable rewards of Sir William Ca- 
vendish ; and the descent of the two ducal families 
of Devonshire and Newcastle from this most for- 
tunate subject is set forth with all due regard to 
genealogical accuracy. 

From these two ffreat public reser- f}^ wuiiam 

^ ^ Cavencbsh 

voirs of English bioOTaphy this account generaUy un- 

^ 01./ derstood to be 

of Sir William Cavendish, both as an Ac author; 
author and a man, has been drawn off into innu- 
merable other works. Writers of high authority 
in affairs of this nature have adopted it ; and 
even historians of the life of Wolsey, upon whom 
it appeared to be incumbent to make accurate 
inquiry into this subject, have retailed as un- 
questioned truth what the Biographia and the 
Peerages have told us concerning an author to 
whose most faithful and interesting narrative 

3 Vol. i. p. 311.. 



O WHO WROTE 

they have been so largely indebted. Sir William 
Cavendish may therefore be regarded as the 
tenant in possession of this property : nor, as far 
as I know, hath his right ever been formally con- 
but errone. troverted. Before the reader has got 
*'"^^^' to the last page of this little treatise 

he will probably have seen reason to conclude 
that this account is all f able : for that Sir William 
Cavendish could not possibly have been the 
Cardinal's biographer, nor, of course, the faithful 
attendant upon him ; that circumstance of his 
liistory proceeding entirely upon the supposition 
that he was the writer of the work in question "*. 

While we have thus brought before the public 
the person who may be considered as the pre- 
sumed iwoprietor of this work, we have also made 
good our promise to show that there are more 
claimants than one upon this piece of literary 
property. Lord Herbert, we have seen, quotes 
the manuscript as the production of a George 
A third claim. Cavcudish. Other writers of no mean 
^*' authority, as will be seen in the coui'se 

of this disquisition, have attributed it to another 
member of the house of Cavendish whose name 
was Thomas. 

The editors of the Biographia and tlie Peer- 



4 See the marginal references in the Biographia and thi 
Peeraaes. 



CAVENDISH S WOLSEY ? 7 

ages have made very light of my Lord Herbert's 
testimony. Wliat those divers circumstances 
were which led the latter to reject it, as they 
have not informed us, so we must be content to 
remain in ignorance. The noble historian of 
the life and reign of Henry VIII. is not accus- 
tomed to quote his authorities at random. If 
he sometimes endeavour too much to palliate 
enormities which can neither be excused nor 
softened down, he is nevertheless generally cor- 
rect as to the open fact, as he is always inge- 
nious and interesting. Supported by so respect- 
able an authority, the pretensions of this George 
Cavendish of Glemsford to have been the faithful 
attendant upon Wolsey, and the lively historian 
of his rise and fall, ought to have received a 
more patient examination. Descended of the 
same parents with Sir WiUiam, and by biith the 
elder, in fortune he was far behind him. At 
a period of great uncertainty the two brothers 
took opposite courses. William was for reform, 
George for existing circumstances. Contrary 
to the ordinary course of events, the first was 
led to wealth and honours, the latter left in 
mediocrity and obscurity. The former yet lives 
in a posterity not less distinguished by personal 
merit than by the splendour cast upon them by 
the highest rank in the Britisli peerage, the just 
reward of meritorious services performed by a 



5 WHO WROTE 

race of patriots their ancestors. Of the progeny 
from the other, history has no splendid deeds to 
relate ; and, after the third generation, they are 
unknown to the herald and the antiquary. But 
this is to anticipate. I contend that the wreath 
which he has justly deserved, who produces one 
of the most beautiful specimens of unaffected 
faithful biography that any language contains, 
has been torn from this poor man's brov/, to de- 
corate the temples of his more fortunate brother. 
To replace it is the object of the present pub- 
lication. It will, I trust, be shown, to 

George Ca- 
vendish the the satisfaction of the reader, that this 

real author. 

George Cavendish was the author of 
the work in question, and the disinterested at- 
tendant upon the fallen favourite. The illus- 
trious house of Devonshire needs no borrowed 
merit to command the respect and admiration of 
the world. 

Let it not however be supposed that the writer 
is meaning to arrogate to himself the credit of 
being the first to dispute the right of Sir William 
Cavendish, and to advance the claim of the real 
owner. The possession which Sir William has 
had has not been an undisturbed one : so that 
were there any statute of limitations applicable 
Writers ^^ literary property, that statute would 
rdv^inKd '<^^'^^^^ him nothing. The manuscript of 
iiis claim. ^his woi'k, wliich HOW forms a part of 



cavendish's wolsey? 9 

the Harleian library, is described by the accurate 
Wanley as being from the pen of a Waniey. 
George Cavendish^. In 1742 and the two fol- 
lowing years, ' A History of the Life and Times 
of Cardinal Wolsey' was published in four vo- 
lumes octavo by Mr. Joseph Grove, who Grove. 
subjoined, in the form of notes, the whole of 
what was then known to the public of these 
Memoirs ; describing them in a running title, 
* The Secret History of the Cardinal, by George 
Cavendish, Esq. :' but, as if to show that no one 
who touched this subject should escape defile- 
ment from the errors of the Biographia and the 
Peerages, he confounds together the two bro- 
thers in the account he gives of the author at 
the 98th page of his third volume. During the 
remainder of the last century it does not appear 
that Sir William Cavendish suffered any material 
molestation in his possession of this property : 
but in the present century Mr. Francis Douce. 
Douce, in his most curious ' Illustrations of 
Shakspeare,' restores to George Cavendish the 
honour of having produced this work, and marks 
by significative /^«/ic.? that it was an honour which 
another had usurped^. Dr. Words- words- 
worth may also be ranked amongst ^°'^'^' 
those writers who have ventured to put a sj)ade 

"> Catalogue ilarl. iM^y. No. 12S. '' Vol. ii. p. Al. 



10 WHO WROTE 

into Sir William's estate. To this gentleman 
belongs the merit of having first presented to the 
public an impression of this work, which con- 
veys any just idea of the original 7. In an ad- 
vertisement he expresses himself thus cautiously 
as to the name of the author : " The following 
life was written by the Cardinal's gentleman- 
usher, Cavendish, whose Christian name in the 
superscription to some of the manuscript copies 
is Geo?^ge, but by Bishop Kennet, in his Memoirs 
of the family of Cavendish, by Collins in his 
Peerage, and by Dr. Birch (No. 4233, Ays- 
cough's Catalogue Brit. Museum) he is called 
William^." Had the learned editor pursued the 
question thus started, it is probable he would 
have been led to the conclusion which will here 
be brought out, and have thus rendered wholly 
unnecessary the disquisition now tendered to the 

7 In his ' Ecclesiastical Biography ; or. Lives of eminent Men 
connected with the History of Religion in England,' 6 vols. 8vo. a 
useful and valuable collection, Dr. Wordsworth very properly re- 
jected the parenthesis, " at which time it was apparent that he had 
poisoned himself," which had been introduced into the printed 
copies without the authority of the manuscripts. The editor of the 
Censura Literaria once intimated his intention to prepare an edi- 
tion of this work. (C. L. iii. 372.) How could the press of Lee 
Priory, of whose powers we have had so many favourable speci- 
mens, have been more worthily engaged than in producing a cor- 
rect edition of this valuable piece of antiquarian lore, — except in 
favouring the public with more of its able director's own feeling 
and beautiful essays .^ 
» Vol. i. p. 3'21. 



11 



notice of the public. But here he has suffered 
the matter to rest. 

And indeed, to say the trutli, though Doubts of 

,1 -111 1 ^ Sir William 

there may possibly nave been two or cavendish's 
three other writers who have intimated "ork g'lined 
a doubt as to the right of Sir WiUiam "raHt'iS die 
Cavendish to the work in question, "°''^'^' 
these doubts seem never to have gained hold on 
the public attention. It would be an invidious 
task to collect together the many modern sup- 
porters of his claim : there are, amongst them, 
names who have deservedly attained a high de- 
gree of celebrity in the walks of biography, hi- 
story, antiquities, and topography. All the writer 
wishes is, that he may stand excused with the 
public in offering what he has collected upon 
this point : and if the concession is made that 
the suspicions of vSir William Cavendish's right 
to this piece of biography have never gained 
much hold on the public mind, and that it is a 
prevailing opinion in the world that the great- 
ness in which we now behold the house of De- 
vonshire owes its origin to a train of fortunate 
circumstances resulting out of an attendance on 
Cardinal Wolsey, lie must consider himself as 
amply excused. 

Let us now hear the evidence. 

The learned editor of the * Eccle- Authorities 

in Ins fa- 



siastical Biography' has mentioned 



se- 



12 WHO WROTE 

veral names as supporters of Sir William's claim. 
And indeed, if riames might carry the day, Ken- 
net and Collins, Birch and Morant, are in them- 
selves a host. But who is there accustomed to 
close and minute investigation, that has not dis- 
covered for himself, of how little moment is 
simple authority in any question? It is, espe- 
cially, of little weight in historical and antiqua- 
rian discussion. The most laborious may some- 
times overlook evidence which is afterwards 
accidentally discovered to another of far inferior 
pretensions : the most accurate may mistake : 
the most faithful may be bribed into inattention 
by supposititious facts, which give a roundness 
and compactness to what, without them, forms 
but an imperfect narration. The case before us 
may possibly come under the latter head. Take 
away the attendance upon Wolsey, and we have 
several years unaccounted for in the life of Sir 
William Cavendish ; and lose what the mind per- 
ceives to be a step by which a private gentleman, 
as he was, might advance himself into the coun- 
cils of princes, and the possession of important 
offices of state. There is in this wJiat might 
lay a general biographer, who was a very Argus, 
asleep. But these authorities, it must also be 
au modern, obscrvcd, are all moderns: they lived 
a century and a half after both the Cavendishes 
had been gathered to their fathers; and earlier 



CAVENDISH .S WOLSF.Y ? 13 

biographers, wlio have made mention of this 
founder of two ducal houses, have said nothing 
of any attendance upon the Cardinal, never 
ascribed the flourishing state of his fortunes to 
any recommendation of him to the king from his 
old master, nor taken any notice of what is so 
much to his honour, that he adhered faitlifully 
to Wolsey in his fall, and produced this beauti- 
ful tribute to his memory. Negative evidence 
of this kind, it may be said, is of no great weight. 
It will be allowed, however, to be of some, when 
it is recollected who they are that have omitted 
these leading 'particulars in Sir William Caven- 
dish's history. They are no other than the au- 
thor of * The Baronao-e of England,' 
and Margaret Duchess of Newcastle, and the 
who has given a laboured genealogy Newcastle 
of the ancestors and kindred of lier ascribe it 
lord, a grandson of Sir William Caven- 
dish, annexed to the very entertaining memoirs 
which she left of his life. The omissions of t\vo 
such writers, living at the time when this work 
was first made public, and whose duty as well as 
inclination it would have been to have men- 
tioned the fact, had it been so, will at least serve 
to weigh against the positive but unsupported 
testimonies of the abovementioned respectable 
writers, all of whom lived much too late to be 



14 WHO WROTE 

supposed to have received any information by 
private tradition. 

The original But the Original manuscript was in 
be -m the the hands of the Pierrepoint family, and 
thePieiTe. luto that family Sir William Caven- 
muy. ^' dish's daughter was married. Possibly; 
but were it even so, it is obvious that this lays 
but a very insufficient foundation for believing 
that Sir William was the author. Why might it 
not have been given to Frances Cavendish by 
George Cavendish her uncle ? But Doctor 
Kennet, upon whose authority this statement 
has been made, has not informed us by what cri- 
terion he was guided in assigning that priority 
to the Pierrepoint manuscript which this state- 
ment assumes. There are so many manuscripts 
of this work abroad, that it must, I presume, be 
exceedingly difficult to decide which has the best 
claim to be the author's autograph, if indeed that 
autograph be in existence ^. Scarcely any work 
of this magnitude, composed after the invention 
of printing, has been so often transcribed. There 

9 The reader will bear in mind that this passage was written in 
1814.J when the writer could not, for obvious reasons, have been 
acquainted with the claims of Mr. Lloyd's manuscript, to be consi- 
dered as the original autograph of the author. I will here take 
occasion to observe that, to the manviscripts enumerated above, two 
more may be added, described in the preface to the Life, which are 
in the possession of the writer of this note. S. W. S. 



cavendish's WOLSEYr 1.5 

is a copy in the cathedral library at York jj^^^^, 
which once belonged to Archbishop ^"'P"*' 
Matthew ; another very valuable one in the 
library of the College of Arms, presented to that 
learned society by Henry Duke of Norfolk ; an- 
other in Mr. Donee's collection ; another in the 
public library at Cambridge ; another in the Bod- 
leian. There are two in Mr. Heber's library ; 
two at Lambeth ; two in the British Museum ^ 
The reason of this multiplication of reason for 
copies by the laborious process of pUcation. 
transcription seems to have been this : the 
work was composed in the days of Queen 
Mary by a zealous catholic, but not committed 
to the press during her short reign. It con- 
tained a very favourable representation of the 
conduct of a man who was held in but little 
esteem in the days of her successor, and whom 
it was then almost treason to praise. The con- 
duct of several persons was reflected on who were 
flourishing themselves, or in their immediate 
posterity, in the court of Queen Elizabeth : and 
it contained also the freest censures of tlie Re- 



' It appears by the Catalogus MSS. Anglic tliat there were two 
copies in tlie library of Dr. Henry Jones, rector of Sunningwell in 
Berks, both in folio: and a third also in folio among the MSS. of 
the Rev. Abraham T)e la Prymc, F. 11. S. of Thorne in Yorkshire. 
There was a copy in the very curious library formed about the mid- 
dle of the last century by Dr. Cox Macro at his house, Norton near 
St. Edmund's Bury. 



16 WHO WROTE 

formation, and very strong remarks upon the 
conduct and character of Anne Boleyn, the Car- 
dinal's great enemy. It is probable that no 
printer could be found who had so little fear 
of the Star-Chamber before his eyes as to ven- 
ture the publication of a work so obnoxious : 
while such was the gratification which all per- 
sons of taste and reading w^ould find in it, from 
its fidelity, its curious minuteness, its lively de- 
tails, and above all, from that unaffected air of 
sweet natural eloquence in which it is composed, 
that many among them must have been desirous 
of possessing it. Can we wonder then that so 
many copies should have been taken between 
the time when it was written and the year 1641, 
when it was first sent to the press : or that one 
of these copies should have found its way into 
the library of Henry Pierrepoint, Marquis of 
Dorchester, who was an author, and a man of 
some taste and learnings ? It cannot surely be 
difficult to divine how it came into his posses- 
sion, without supposing that it was brought into 
his family by Sir William's daughter, his grand- 
mother, Frances Cavendish. 

Trifling as it appears, we have now had nearly 
all that has ever been alleged as rendering it 



•2 See the ' Royal and Noble Authors/ p. 202. and Fasti Oxon. 
vol. ii. col. 706, eil. 1692. 



cavendish's wolsey ? 17 

probable that Sir William Cavendish was the 
author of this work. We have no evi- ^^ evidence 
dence in his favour from any early frjj,'\i7°"' 
catalogue of writers in English history : ^^^'^^ 
nor any testimony in inscription or title upon 
any of the manuscripts, except a modern one 
by Dr. Birch, upon one of the Museum copies. 
But in appropriating any literary composition to 
its author, that evidence is the most conclusive 
which is derived from the work itself. This 
is the kind of proof to which it is proposed to 
bring the claims of the two competitors. It is 
contended that there are passages in the work, 
and self-notices, which are absolutely incon- 
sistent with the supposition that it was the pro- 
duction of the person to whom it has usually 
been ascribed. Let us attend to these. 

It will be of some importance to us Time when 
to have clearly ascertained the period at was written. 
which tins work was composed. We have informa- 
tion sufficient for this purpose. At * p. 102 in 

1 , • ^^'^ present 

page 350 * 01 Dr. Wordsworth s nnpres- edition. 
sion, we read that the Cardinal " was sent twice 
on an embassage unto the Emperor Charles the 
Fifth that now reigneth, and father imto King 
Philip, now our soveraign lord." Mary queen 
of England was married to Philip of Spain on 
the 25th of July, 1554. Again, at page 401, 
we hear of " Mr. Ratcliff'e, who was sonne and 

c 



18 WHO WROTE 

^, ^ , heire to the Lord Fitzwalter, and nowe* 

♦ In the All- ' 

tograph MS. Eai'le of Sussex.'* The Earl of Sussex 

it stands — 

''and after of Quceu Marv's reiffu, who had been 

EarlofSus. *^ , 

sex," V, p. son and heir to a Lord Fitzwalter in 
present edi. the days of King Henry VIIL, could 
be no other than Henry Radcliffe, the 
second earl of that name, who died on the lyth 
of February, 1557 ^- Without incurring any risk 
by following older "authorities, when so much 
misconception is abroad, we may set down as 
fairly proved that the Life of Wolsey was com- 
posed about the middle of the reign of Queen 
Mary 4. 



3 Milles's Catalogue of Honour, p. 667. 

4 The reader will, it is hoped, excuse the minute'- 
A supposed jj^ggg of jj^jg inquiry. "We have enough to teach us to 
anachronism , ,. ^■' ,,,., 

explained. ^^^^ nothing upon trust that has heen said concerning 
this work : and some douhts have been expressed as 
to the period at which it was written, grounded on a passage near 
the conclusion. Cavendish tells us that when the Cardinal left 
the hospitable mansion of the Earl of Shrewsbury at Sheffield, on 
the borders of Yorkshire, " he took his journey with Master King- 
ston and the guard. And as soon as they espied their old master 
in such a lamentable estate, they lamented him with weeping eyes. 
Whom my lord took by the hands, and divers times, by the way, 
as he rode, he would talk with them, sometime with one, and 
sometime with another ; at night he was lodged at a house of the 
Earl of Shrewsbury's, called Hardwick Hall, very evil at ease. 
The next day he rode to Nottingham, and there lodged that night, 
more sicker, and the next day we rode to Leicester Abbey ; and by 
the way he waxed so sick, that he was divers times likely to have 
fallen from his mule." p. 536. This is an affecting picture. 
Shakspeare had undoubtedly seen these words, his portrait of the 
sick and dying Cardinal so closely resembling this. But in these 



CAVENDISH S WOLSEY ? 1^ 

Now we may collect that the author, The author 
whoever he was, thought himself a man. 
neglected man at the time of writing. He tells 
us that he engaged in the work to vindicate 
the memory of his master from *' diverse son- 
drie surmises and imagined tales, made of his 
proceedings and dohigs," wliich he himself had 
*' perfectly knowen to be most untrue." We 
cannot however but discover, that he was also 
stimulated by the desire of attracting attention 
to himself, the old and faithful domestic of a 
great man whose character was then beginning 
to retrieve itself in the eyes of an abused nation, 
and whose misfortunes had prevented him from 

words is this chronological difficulty. How is it that Hardwick 
Hall is spoken of as a house of the Earl of Shrewsbury's in the 
reign of Henry VIII. or at least in the days of Queen Mary, when 
it was well known that the house of this name between ShefSekl 
and Nottingham, in which the Countess of Shrewsbury spent her 
widowhood, a house described in the Anecdotes of Painting, and 
seen and admired by every curious traveller in Derbyshire, did not 
accrue to the possessions of any part of the Shrewsbury family till 
the marriage of an earl, who was grandson to the Cardinal's host, 
with Elizabeth Hardwick, the widow of Sir William Cavendish, 
in the time of Queen Elizabeth ? If I recollect right, this dif- 
ficulty perplexed that learned Derbyshire antiquary Dr. Samuel 
Pegge, who has written somewhat at length on the question, whe- 
ther the Cardinal met his death in consequence of having taken 
poison. See Gent. Mag. vol. xxv. p. 27, and vol. liii. p. 751. The 
editor of the Topographer proposes to correct the text by reading 
Wingfield in place of Hardwick ; vol. ii. p. 79. The truth, how- 
ever, is, that though the story is told to every visitor of Hardwick 
Hall, that " the great child of honour. Cardinal AVolsey," slcj/t 
there a few nights before his death ; as is also the story, equally 

C '2 



20 WHO WROTE 

advancing his servants in a manner accordant 
to his^ own wishes, and to the dignity of his ser- 
vice. He dwells with manifest complacency 
upon the words of commendation he received 
on different occasions from his master ; and re- 
lates towards the conclusion how kindly he had 
been received by the king after the death of 
Wolsey, and what promises had been made to 
him both by Henry and the Duke of Norfolk, 
who yet suffered him to depart into his own 
country. But what shows most strikingly that 
he was an unsatisfied man, and thought that he 
had by no means had the reward due to his 
faithful services, is a remark he makes after 



unfounded, that Mary Queen of Scots was confined there ; it was 
another Hardwick which received the weary traveller for a night 
in this his last melancholy pilgrimage. This was Hardwick upon 
Line in Nottinghamshire, a place about as far to the south of 
Mansfield, as the Hardwick in Derbyshire, so much better known, 
is to the north-west. It is now gone to much decay, and is conse- 
quently omitted in many maps of the county. It is found in 
Speed. Here the Earl of Shrewsbury had a house in the time of 
Wolsey. Leland expressly mentions it. " The Erie [of Shrews- 
bury] hath a park and maner place or lodge yn it caullid Harde- 
wike upon Line, a four miles from Newstede Abbay." Itin. vol. 
V. fol. 94. p. 108. Both the Hardwicks became afterwards the 
property of the Cavendishes. Thoroton tells us that Sir Charles 
Cavendish, youngest son of Sir William, and father of William 
Duke of Newcastle, " had begun to build a gi-eat house in this lord- 
ship, on a- hill by the forest side, near Annesley Woodhouse, when 
he was assaulted and wounded by Sir John Stanhope and his men, 
as he was viewing the work, which was therefore thought fit to be 
left off, some bloud being spilt in the quarrel, then very hot be- 
tween the two families." Throsby's edit. vol. ii. p. 294.. 



cavendish's wolsey ? 21 

having related the sudden elevation of Wolsey 
to the deanery of Lincoln. " Here," says he, 
" may all men note the chaunces of fortune that 
followethe some whome she intendeth to pro- 
mote, and to some her favor is cleane contrary, 
though they travaille never so much, with all 
the painfull diligence that they can devise or 
imagine : whereof for my part I have tasted of 
the experienced" p. 332 ^. 

There are persons whom nothing will Not so sir 

' r> 1 ^ . 1 William 

satisfy, and they are sometimes the most Cavendish. 
importunate in obtruding their supposed neglects 
upon the public : but it must surely have been 
past all endurance to have had such a complaint 



5 The reference is to Dr. Wordsworth's text ; the passage will 
be found at p. 77 of the present edition. The same strain of 
querulous complaint occurs in his prologue to the Metrical Visions : 

How some are by fortune exalted to riches. 
And often such as most unworthy be, &c. 

Afterwards he checks himself, and calls Dame Reason to his aid : 

But after dewe serche and better advisement, 
I knew by Reason that oonly God above 
Rewlithe thos thyngs, as is most convenyent. 
The same devysing to man for his behove : 
Wherefore Dame Reason did me persuade and move 
To be content with my small estate. 
And in this matter no more to vestigate. 
Here we have decisive proof that the writer's fortunes were not 
in the flourishing condition which marked those of Sir William 
(Javcndisli at this period, i. o. in the reign of Mary. 

S. W. S. 



22 WHO WROTE 

as this preferred by Sir William Cavendish in 
the days of Queen Mary. His life had been a 
continual series of promotions and lucrative em- 
His employ, ploymcuts. lu 1530, the very year in 
moSsr* tl^e November of which the Cardinal 

and rewards. ^-^^^ j^^ ^^^ COnstitutcd OUC of the 

commissioners for visiting and taking the sur- 
renders of divers religious houses. In 1539 he 
was made one of the Auditors of the Court of 
Augmentations, then lately established. At this 
period of his life he was living luxuriously at his 
mansion of North Awbrey near Lincoln, as ap- 
pears by the inventory of his furniture there, 
which is preserved in manuscript 6. In the next 
year he had a royal grant of several lordships 



^ It formed part of the curious collection of manuscripts made 
John Wil- ^y ^'^^ ^^*^ '^'^^^ Wilson, Esq. of Bromhead near 
son of Sheffield, in Yorkshire ; a gentleman who spent a long 

Bromhead. ^ife in collecting, and transcribing where he could not 
procure possession of the original, whatever might throw any light 
upon the descent of property, or on the history, language, or 
manners of our ancestors. He was the intimate friend and corre- 
spondent of Burton, Watson, Brooke, Beckwith, and indeed of all 
that generation of Yorkshire antiquaries which passed away with 
the late Mr. Beaumont of Whitley Beaumont. Mr. Wilson died 
in 1783. Cavendish's library was not the best furnished apartment 
of his magnificent mansion. For the satisfaction of the gentle 
Bibliomaniac, I shall transcribe the brief catalogue of his books. 
" Chawcer, Froyssarte Cronicles, a boke of French and English." 
They were kept in the new parler, where were also the pictor of 
our sov''eigne lord the kyng, the pyctor of the Frenche kyng and 
another of the Frenche queue : also ' two other tables, one with 
towe aiiticke boys, «Sc the other of a storye of the Byble.' In ' the 



cavendish's wolsey ? 23 

in the county of Hertford. In 1546 he was 
knighted ; constituted treasurer of the chamber 
to the king, a place of great trust and honour ; 
and was soon afterwards admitted of the privy 
council. He continued to enjoy all these honours 
till his death, a space of eleven years, in w^hicli 
time his estate was much increased by the grants 
he received from King Edward VI. in seven 
several counties 7. It was not surely for such a 
man as this to complain of the ludihi'iafortunce^ 
or of the little reward all his " painful diligence" 
had received. Few men, as Sylvius says, would 
have such a " poverty of grace" that they would 
not 

'' think it a most plenteous crop 

To glean the broken ears after the man 
That such a harvest reaps." 

Sir William Cavendish began the world the 
younger son of a family of some respectability, 
but of no great wealth or consequence ; and he 
left it, at about the age of fifty, a knight, a privy 
counsellor, and the owner of estates which, 
managed and improved as they were by his 



lyttlc parlor' was ' a payutyd clothe with the pictor of Kyng 
Harry the VIII"' our sovereygne lord, & kyng Harry the VII"' 
& the VI"', Edward the Forthe & Rychard the Third.' 

' The authorities for this detail of the employments, rewards, 
and honours of Sir William Cavendish arc to be found in the 
Biographia and the Peerages. 



24 WHO WROTE 

prudent relict, furnished two houses with the 
means of supporting in becoming splendour the 
very first rank in the British peerage. 

But an ambitious man is not to be contented ; 
and men do form erroneous estimates of their 
own deserts : let us see, then, if the work will 
not supply us with something more conclusive. 
Zealous The Writer is fond of bringing for- 

Retlrml-' Ward his religious sentiments. The 
^'°"" reader will be amused with the follow- 

ing sally against the Reformation, its origin, and 
favourers. He who is disposed may find in it 
matter for serious reflection. When Cavendish 
has related that the king submitted to be cited 
by the two legates, and to appear in person 
before them, to be questioned touching the 
matter of the divorce, he breaks out into this 
exclamation : — " Forsoothe it is a world to con- 
sider the desirous will of wilfuU princes, when 
they be set and earnestly bent to have their wills 
fulfilled, wherein no reasonable persuasions will 
suffice ; and how little they regard the dangerous 
sequell that may ensue, as well to themselves as 
to their subjects. And above all things, there 
is nothing that maketh them more wdlfull than 
carnall love and sensuall affection of voluptuous 
desire, and pleasures of their bodies, as was in 
this case ; wherein nothing could be of greater 
experience than to see what inventions were 



cavendish's wolsey ? 25 

furnished, what lawes were enacted, what costly 
edifications of noble and auncient monasteries 
were overthrowne, what diversity of opinions 
then rose, what executions were then committed, 
how many noble clerkes and good men were then 
for the same put to deathe, what alteration of 
good, auncient, and holesome lawes, customes, 
and charitable foundations were tourned from 
reliefe of the poore, to utter destruction and de- 
solation, almost to the subversion of this noble 
realme. It is sure too much pitty to heare or 
understand the things that have since that time 
chaunced and happened to this region. The 
profe thereof hath taught us all Englishmen the 
experience, too lamentable of all good men to 
be considered. If eyes be not blind men may 
see, if eares be not stopped they may heare, and 
if pitty be not exiled the inward man may lament 
the sequell of this pernicious and inordinate love. 
Although it lasted but a while, the plague thereof 
is not yet ceased, which our Lorde quenche and 
take his indignation from us ! Qw« peccavhmis 
cum patribus nostris, et injuste egimus.*^ p. 420 
and 421. 

This passage, warm from the heart, 

^ ^ ' Not so Sir 

could have been written by none but wiUiam 

Cavendish. 

a zealous anti-reformist. That certainly 

was not Sir William Cavendish. He had becMi 

one of the principal instruments in effecting what 



^6 WHO WROTE 

I must be allowed to call a necessary and glorious 
work. Men are not accustomed to record their 
own condemnation with such a bold, untrem- 
bling hand. That hand, which is supposed to 
have penned these words, had been once ex- 
tended to receive the conventual seal of the 
Priory of Sheen, and the Abbey of St. Alban's. 
The person by whom we are to believe they 
were written had been an officer in that court 
which was purposely erected to attend to the 
augmentation of the king's revenue by the seques- 
tration of ecclesiastical property ; the proceed- 
ings of which court were too often unnecessarily 
harsh and arbitrary, if not unjust and oppres- 
sive. Nay, more, at the very time these words* 
were written. Sir William Cavendish was living 
on the spoils of those very monasteries whose 
overthrow is so deeply deplored; and rearing 
out of them a magnificent mansion at Chatsworth 
in Derbyshire, to be the abode of himself and 
his posterity. After so long and so decided a 
passage, it has been thought unnecessary to 
quote any other : but throughout the work ap- 
pears the same zeal in the writer to signalize 
himself as a friend to the old profession. May 
not this be considered as amounting to some- 
thing almost conclusive against the supposition 
that the attendant upon Wolsey and Sir William 
Cavendish were the same person ? 



27 
Will it be said that he turned with 

Sir WiUiain 

the times ; that he who, in the Pro- Cavendish 
testant reigns, had been zealous for change with 

1 ^ 7 • 1 /-, 1 T • the times. 

the Gospel^ m the Catholic reign was 
equally zealous for the Mass : and that this work 
was his amende to the offended party ? I know 
not of any authority we have for charging this 
religious tergiversation upon Sir William Caven- 
dish, who, for any thing that appears in his 
history, was animated by other views in pro- 
moting the cause of reform, than the desire of 
personal advancement, and of obtaining the fa- 
vour of his prince : and I am prepared with two 
facts in his history, not mentioned by former 
writers, which are unfavourable to such a sup- 
position. The first shows that he was in some 
disgrace at the court of Queen Mary as late as 
the fourth year of her reign ; the second, that 
he did not seek to ingratiate himself there. On 
the 17th of August, 1556, a very peremptory 
order of council was issued, commanding his 
*' indelaid repaire" to the court to answer on 
" suche matters as at his comyng" should be de- 
clared unto him. The original, subscribed by 
seven of the Queen's council, is among the Wilson 
collections mentioned in the note at page 22. 
What the particular charges were it is not ma- 
terial to our argument to incpiire. The next 
year also, the year in which he died, he ungra- 



28 WHO WROTE 

ciously refused a loan of one hundred pounds 
required of him and other Derbyshire gentlemen 
by the Queen, when her majesty was in distress 
for money to carry on the French war. These 
facts show that though he was continued in the 
offices of treasurer of the chamber and privy 
counsellor, he was in no very high esteem with 
Queen Mary, nor sought to conciliate her favour- 
able regards. To which we may add, that his 
lady, whose spirit and masculine understanding 
would probably give her very considerable in- 
fluence in the deliberations of his mind, was 
through life a firm friend to the Reformation, 
and in high favour with Queen Elizabeth. 

Whatever effect the preceding facts and argu- 
ment may have had upon the reader's mind, there 
is a piece of evidence still to be brought out, 
which is more conclusive against the claim of Sir 
William Cavendish. Soon after the Cardinal 
was arrested at his house of Cawood in York- 
shire, Cavendish tells us that he resorted to his 
lord, " where he was in his chamber sitting in a 
chaire, the tables being spred for him to goe to 
dinner. But as soone as he perceived me to 
come in, he fell out into suche a wofull lamenta- 
tion, with suche ruthefuU teares and watery eies, 
that it would have caused a flinty harte to mourne 
with him. And as I could, I with others com- 
forted him ; but it would not be. For, quoth 



cavendish's wolsey? 29 

lie, nowe I lament that I see this gentleman 
(meaning me) how faithefuU, how dilligent, and 
how painefull he hath served me, abandonning 
his owne country, wife and children, his house 
and family, his rest and quietnesse, ^he author 
only to serve me, and I have nothinge ^'^Xr S? 
to rewarde him for his highe merittes." ^""^ ^^^^* 
p. 517. 

Hence it appears that the Cavendish who 
wrote this work was married, and had a family 
prohabli/ before he entered into the Cardinal's 
service, certainhj while he was engaged in it. 
At what precise period he became a member of 
the Cardinal's household cannot be collected 
from his own writings. Grove says it was as 
early as 1519 ^ ; the Biographia tells us that the 
place was procured for him by his father, who 
died in 1524. This however is certain, that the 
first mention of himself, as one in attendance 
upon the Cardinal, is in the exceedingly curious 
account he has given of the means used to break 
the growing attachment between the Lord Percy 
and Anne Boleyn, in order to make way for the 
king. Cavendish was present when the Earl of 
Northumberland took his son to task. This 
must have been before the year 1527 '•> for in 
that year the Lord Percy became himself Earl 

*^ Life and Timcs^ &c. vol iii. p. !)H. 



so WHO WROTE 

of Northumberland ; and probably it was at least 
a twelvemonth before ; for ere the old Earl's de- 
parture, a marriage had been concluded between 
Lord Percy and the Lady Mary Talbot, a 
daughter of the Earl of Shrewsbury^. In 1526 



■jyjj^j. 9 Though little ceremony and probably as little 

Countess of time was used in patching up these nuptials. As 
Northum- might be expected, they were most unhappy. So we 
berlan . ^^^ ^.^j^j ^^ ^-^^ authority of the earl's own letters in the 

very laboured account of the Percy family given in the edition of 
Collins's Peerage, 1779 ; perhaps the best piece of family history 
in our language. " Henry the unthrifty," Earl of Northumber- 
land, died at Hackney in the prime of life, about ten or twelve 
years after he had consented to this marriage. Of this term but a 
very small part was spent in company of his lady. He lived long 
enough, however, not only to witness the destruction of all his 
own happiness, but the sad termination of Anne Boleyn's life. In 
the admirable account of the Percy family, referred to above, no 
mention is made of the lady who, on these terms, consented to be- 
come Countess of Northumberland, in her long widowhood. She 
had a valuable grant of abbey lands and tythes, from which, pro- 
bably, she derived her principal support. One letter of hers has 
fallen into my hands. It presents her in an amiable position. She 
is pleading in behalf of a poor man whose cattle had been im- 
pounded by one of Lady Cavendish's agents. Its date and place is 
to the eye Wormhill * ; but the running hand of that age, when 
not carefully written, is not to be depended on for representing 
proper names with perfect exactness, and the place may be Wres- 
hill, which was a house of the Northumberland family. She died 
in 1572; and on the 17th of May her mortal remains were de- 
posited in the vault made by her father in Sheffield church, where 
sleep so many of her noble relatives, some of them in monumental 
honours. 



* In justice to the amiable author of this essay, who is extremely anxious to be 
accurate, I think it proper to apprise the reader that the note taken from the former 
edition of his work at p. 127 must be qualified by what is here stated. In a letter 



CAVENDISH*3 WOLSEY ? 31 

then, the Cavendish who wrote this work was a 
member of Wolsey's household. Now, 

Not so Sir 

fortunately for this inquiry, it happens wmiam 

•^ ^ '' ^^ Cavendish. 

that an exact account has been pre- 
served of the several marriages and tJie numerous 
issue of Sir William Cavendish. It is to be found 
in the funeral certificate, which, according to a 
laudable custom of those times, was entered by 
his relict among the records of the College of 
Arms. This document, subscribed by her own 
hand, sets forth that her husband's first-born 
child came into the world on the ytli of January, 
in the 25th year of King Henry VIII. This 
answers to 1534 : that is at least seven years 
after the Cavendish, for whom we are inquiring, 
had become a member of Wolsey's family, and 
more than three years after the Cardinal had re- 
marked that his gentleman usher had left *' wife 
and children, his home and family, his rest and 
quietnesse," only to serve him. This is decisive. 
The document which contains these rpj^^ ^^^^^.^ 
family particulars of the Cavendishes is ^^X^i^\e 
not known only to those gentlemen ^*'"°"^' 
who have access to the arcana of the College of 



with which I have hccii favoured, he says, " I have looked again and again at 
the letter, and the word is certainly (if we may judge from the characters which the 
lady's pen has formed) IVormhiU : yet still I think it must have been intended 
.for IVrcshUl, as I have met with nothing else to show that the lady had a house at 
Wormhill." S. W. S. 



32 WHO WROTE 

Arms. It has been published : and it is re- 
markable that Arthur Collins, who has been a 
principal cause of the error concerning the author 
of this work, gaining such firm hold on the 
public mind, should have been the first to lay 
before the public a record which proves beyond 
dispute that the Cavendish who wrote the Life 
of Wolsey could not be the Cavendish who was 
the progenitor of the house of Devonshire. It 
is printed in his ' Noble Families,* where is a 
more complete account of the Cavendishes than 
is to be found in his Peerage, and which might 
have been transferred with advantage into the 
later editions of that work. This document has 
also been printed by Guthrie and Jacob, whose 
account of the nobility of this nation may often 
be consulted with advantage, after having read 
any of the editions of Collins. Of its authen- 
ticity, the only point material to this inquiry, no 
suspicion can reasonably be entertained. 

We have now brought to a conclusion our 
inquiry into the right of the tenant in possession. 
It has been questioned, examined, and, I think, 
disproved. It is not contended that the com- 
mon opinion respecting Sir William Cavendish's 
attendance upon Wolsey does not harmonize well 
enough with what is known of his real history, 
and to render our proof absolutely complete, it 
might seem to be almost incumbent upon us to 



cavendish's wolsey ? 33 

show how Sir William Cavendish was engaged 
while Wolsey's biographer was discharging the 
duties of his office as an attendant upon the 
Cardinal. Could we do this, we should also 
disclose the steps by which he attained to his 
honourable state employments, and the favour 
of successive monarchs. In the absence How the 

early years 

of positive testimony I would be per- ofsirwo- 

. , liam Caven- 

mitted to hazard the conjecture, that dish may 
in early life he followed the steps of spent. 
his father, who had an office in the court of Ex- 
chequer. Such an education as he would re- 
ceive in that court would render him a most fit 
instrument for the purpose in which we first 
find his services used, the suppression of the 
monasteries, and the appropriation of the lands 
belonging to them to his royal master. Having 
signalized his zeal, and given proof of his ability 
in this service, so grateful to the King, we may 
easily account for his further employments, and 
the promotions and rewards which followed them. 
Let it however be observed, that this is no 
essential part of our argument ; nor shall I pursue 
the inquiry any further, mindful of the well 
known and sage counsel of the Lord Chancellor 
Bacon. 

I would however be permitted to say some- 
thing on that very extraordinary woman, the 
lady of Sir William Cavendish, and the sharer 

D 



34 WHO WROTE 

with him in raising the family to that state of 
affluence and honour in which we now behold 
it. Indeed she was a more than equal sharer. 
He laid the foundation, she raised the super- 
structure ; as she finished the family palace 
at Chatsworth, of which he had laid the first 
stone. 

His lady This lady was Elizabeth Hardwick, 

dinSy cha". ^ ^^^^^ familiar to all visitors of the 
racter. couHty of Derby, where she lived more 

than half a century with little less than sovereign 
authority, having first adorned it with two most 
splendid mansions. The daughter, and the vir- 
gin widow of two Derbyshire gentlemen of mo- 
derate estates, she first stepped into consequence 
by her marriage with Sir William Cavendish, a 
gentleman much older than herself. The cere- 
mony was performed at the house of the Marquis 
of Dorset i, father to the Lady Jane Grey, who, 
with the Countess of Warwick and the Earl of 
Shrewsbury, was a sponsor at the baptism of her 
second child. Cavendish left her a widow with 
six children in 1557. Shortly after his death 
Marries Sir shc uuitcd licrsclf to Sir William St. 

WiUiam St. ^ ^ , , , i n i 

Lowe; Lowe, one of the old attendants or the 



> Broadgate in Leicestershire. See the Funeral Certificate. 
They were married on the 20th Aug. 1 Edw. VL, at two o'clock 
after midnight. 



cavendish's wolsey ? So 

Princess Elizabeth, on whose accession to the 
throne he was made captain of her guard. In 
I5G7, being a third time a widow, she was raised 
to the bed of the most powerful peer 

becomes 

of the realm, George Talbot, Earl of Coimtessof 
Shrewsbury. He had been a friend of 
Sir William Cavendish, and it is possible that the 
magnificent state which he displayed in the im- 
mediate neighbourhood of this lady had more 
than once excited her envy. She loved pomp 
and magnificence and personal splendour, as 
much as she enjoyed the hurry and engagement 
of mind which multiplied worldly business brings 
w^th it. She had a passion for jewels, which was 
appealed to and gratified by the un- Hasapre- 
happy Mary Queen of Scotland 2, who Jeweif from 
lived many years under the care of the Q^^Jn of 
Earl of Shrewsbury, her husband. She '^'^°'^" 
luiited herself to this nobleman more, as it should 
seem, from motives of ambition, than as the 
consequence of any real affection she had for 
him. He had unquestionably the sincerest re- 
gard for her : and, though she forgot many of 
the duties of a wife, it continued many years in 
the midst of all that reserve and perfidity, and 
even tyranny, if such a word may be allowed, 



' Among tlie Wilson collection is a list of jewels presented to 
the Countess of Shrewsbury by the Queen of Scotland. 

I) '2 



36 WHO WROTE 

which she thought proper to exercise towards 
him. The decline of this good and great man's 
life affords a striking lesson how utterly insuf- 
ficient are wealth and splendour and rank to 
secure happiness even in a case where there is 
no experience of the more extraordinary vicissi- 
tudes of fortune, the peculiar danger of persons 
in elevated situations. Probably the happiest 
days of the last three and twenty years of his 
life were those in which he was employing him- 
self in preparing his own sepulchre. This he 
Death of occupied iu 1,590. But the effect of 
the Earl. j^^^ ^^l advlscd uuptials extended beyond 
his life. His second countess had drawn over 
to her purposes some of his family, who had 
assisted her in the designs she carried on against 
her husband. She had di^awn them closely to 
her interest by alliances with her own family. 
Hence arose family animosities, which appeared 
in the most frightful forms, and threatened the 
most deadly consequences^. Much may be 
seen respecting this extraordinary woman in 
the Talbot papers published by Mr. Lodge. A 
bundle of her private correspondence has been 



3 See " Memoirs of the Peers of England during the Reign of 
James the First/' p. 19. Lodge's "Illustrations/' &c. iii. .50— 
64. and Harl. MS. in Brit. Mus. No. 4836. fol. 325 and 6846. 
fol. 97. 



cavendish's wolsey ? 37 

preserved, and forms a curious and valuable part 
of that collection of manuscripts which we have 
had occasion more than once to mention. These 
let in much light upon her conduct. It is im- 
possible to contemplate her character in this 
faithful mirror without being convinced that Mr. 
Lodge has drawn the great outlines of it cor- 
rectly, when he describes her as " a Mr. Lodge's 

^ character of 

woman oi masculine understandmg and her. 
conduct ; proud, furious, selfish, and unfeeling^." 
Yet she was a favourite of Queen Elizabeth, who 
paid her this compliment soon after her last 
marriage, that " she had been glad Anecdote of 

. Queen 

to see my Lady kjamt Lowe, but was Elizabeth. 
more desirous to see my Lady Shrewsbury, and 
that there was no lady in the land whom she 
better loved and liked." These flattering ex- 
pressions were used to Mr. Wingfield, who was 
a near relation of this lady, and who lost no time 
in reporting them to her. Most of these letters 
are upon private affairs : a few only are from 
persons whom she had engaged to send her the 
news of the day, as was usual with the great 
people of that age when absent from court. 
There are several of the letters which betters to 
she received from Saint Lowe and '^''''" 



Illustrations," &c. Introd. p. 17. 



38 WHO WROTE 

Shrewsbury, which show how extraordinary was 
the influence she had gained over their minds. 
There is one from Sir William Cavendish. 
Having laboured to show what the knight did 
not compose, I shall transcribe in the note be- 
low this genuine fragment of his writing, though 
in no respect worthy of publication, except as 
having passed between these two remarkable 
characters ^. It is expressed in a strain of fami- 
liarity to which neither of his successors ever 
dared aspire. To conclude the history of this 
lady, she survived her last husband about seven- 
teen years, which were spent for the most part 
at Hardwick, the place of her birth, and where 
she had built the present noble mansion. There 
she died in I6O7, and was interred in the great 
church at Derby. 

The courteous reader will, it is hoped, par- 
don this digression ; and now set we forth on 



^ . . , 5 To Besse Cavendysh 

Original ^ 

Letter of my wyfF. 

Sir William Good Besse^ haveing forgotten to wryght in my 

Cavendish. letters that you shuld pay Otewell Alayne eight pounds 

for certayne otys that we have bought of hym oyi" and above x" that 

I have paid to hym in hand, I hertely pray you for that he is de- 

syrus to receyve the rest at London, to pay hym uppon the sight 

hereof. You knowe my store and therefore I have appoyntyd hym 

to have it at yoi^ hands. And thus faer you well. From Chattes- 

worth the xiii"i of Aprell. W. C. 



cavendish's wolsey ? 39 

the second stage of our inquiry, Who wrote 
Cavendish's Life of Wolsey ? 

When there are only two claimants ciaim of 

.^i . Thomas 

upon any property, ii the pretensions Cavendish. 
of one can be shown to be groundless, those of 
the other seem to be established as a necessary 
consequence. But here we have a thii'd party. 
Beside Sir William and his elder brother George, 
a claimant has been found in a Thomas Caven- 
dish. In the account of Wolsey given in the 
Athenae ^ Wood calls the author by this name : 
and Dodd, a Catholic divine, who published 
a Church History of England in 3 vols, folio, 
(Brussels, I737.) in a list of historians and 
manuscripts used in the preparation of his work, 
enumerates " Cavendish Thomas, Life of Car- 
dinal Wolsey, Lond. 1.590." It is very probable 
that Dodd may have contented himself with 
copying the name of this author from the 
Athenae, a book he used : and it is with the ut- 
most deference, and the highest possible respect, 
for the wonderful industry and the extraordinary 
exactness of the Oxford antiquary, I would in- 
timate my opinion that, in this instance, he has 
been misled. To subject the pretensions of 
Thomas Cavendish to such a scrutiny as that to 

'" Ath. Oxon. vol. i. col. 5()f». cd, l(i!)l. 



40 WHO WROTE 

which those of Sir William have been brought 
is quite out of the question : for neither Wood 
nor Dodd have thrown any light whatever on 
his history or character. He appears before us 
like Homer, nomen, et pr<sterea nihil. There 
was a person of both his names, of the Grim- 
stone family, a noted navigator, and an author 
in the days of Queen Elizabeth ; but he lived 
much too late to have ever formed a part of the 
household of Cardinal Wolsey. 

We must now state the evidence in favour 
of George Cavendish. The reader will judge 
for himself whether the testimony of Anthony 
Wood, and that of the Catholic church-historian, 
supposing them to be distinct and independent 
testimonies, is sufficient to outweigh what is to 
be advanced in support of George Cavendish's 
claim. We shall first state on what grounds the 
work is attributed to a Cavendish whose name 
was George ; and secondly, the reasons we have 
for believing that he was the George Cavendish 
of Glemsford in Suffolk, to whom my Lord 
Herbert ascribes the work. 

On the former point the evidence 

That the ^ 

writer's name is wholly extcmal. It lics iu a small 

was George. 

compass ; but it is of great weight. It 
consists in the testimony of all the ancient ma- 
nuscripts which bear any title of an even date 



cavendish's wolsey ? 41 

with themselves 7 : and in that of the learned 
herald and antiquary Francis Thinne, a contem- 
porary of the author's, who, in the list of writers 
of English history which he subjoined to Hol- 
linshead's Chronicle, mentions ** George Caven- 
dish, Gentleman Vsher vnto Cardinal Woolseie, 
whose life he did write." 

Now to our second point. Four Fourdr- 
circumstances of the author's situation of the au- 
are discovered to us in the work itself: diUon disco- 
viz. that his life was extended through Sc. ^" 
the reigns of Henry VIII. Edward VI. and 
Queen Mary ; that while he was in the Cardi- 
nal's service he was a married man, and had a 
family : that he was in but moderate circum- 
stances when he composed this memoir ; and 
that he retained a zeal for the old profession of 
religion. If we find these circumstances con- 
curring in a George Cavendish, it is probable 
we have found the person for whom we are in 
search. 



7 None of the publishers of this work have given us . 

the original title. I shall here transcribe it as it ap- ti^|]J}- ,jjg 
pears upon the manuscript in the Library of the Col- work, 
lege of Arms. 

Thomas Wolsey, late Cardinall intituled 

of S'^ Cicile trans Tibcrim presbyter and 

Lord Chauncellar of England, his lyfe 

and dcathe, conij)ilcd by ( Jcorgu 

Cavcndishc, his gentleman Usher. 



42 ' WHO WROTE 

Scanty as is the information afforded us con- 
cerning a simple esquire of the days of the Tu- 
dors, it will probably be made apparent that 
these circumstances do concur in the person 
to whom my Lord Herbert ascribes the work. 
Men of little celebrity in their lives, and whose 
track through the world cannot be discovered 
by the light of history, are sometimes found 
attaining a faint and obscure " life after death" 
in the herald's visitation books and the labours 
of the scrivener. Those rolls of immortality are 
open to every man. They transmit to a re- 
mote posterity the worthless and the silly with 
as much certainty as the name of one who was 
instinct with the fire of genius, and whom a 
noble ambition to be good and gi'eat distin- 
guished from the common herd of men. It is 
in these rolls only that the name of George 
Cavendish of Glemsford is come down to us : he 
forms a link in the pedigree : he is a medium in 
the transmission of manorial property. 
Obscurity ^^^* ^^^^^ ^^^T ohscurity creates a pre- 

Caraldfsh sumptiou in favour of his claim. Wliat 
tMnln^hSr employment that should raise him into 
favour. notice would be offered in the days of 
Henry and Edward to the faithful and affection- 
ate attendant upon a character so unpopular 
among the great as the haughty, low-born Wol- 
sey ? What should have placed his name upon 



cavendish's wolsey? 43 

public record who did not, like Cromwell and 
some other of Wolsey's domestics, "find him- 
self a way out of his master's w^'eck to rise in " 
by throwing himself upon the court, but retired, 
as Cavendish at the conclusion of the Memoirs 
tells us he did, to his own estate in the country, 
with his wages, a small gratuity, and a present 
of six of the Cardinal's horses to convey his fur- 
niture ? That, living at a distance from the 
court, he should have been overlooked on the 
change of the times, cannot be surprising : he 
was only one among many who would have equal 
claims upon Mary and her ministry. Had she 
lived indeed till his work had been published, 
we might then reasonably have expected to have 
seen a man of so much virtue, and talent, and 
religious zeal, di'awn from his obscurity, and his 
name might have been as well known to our hi- 
story as that of his brother the reformist. But 
Mary died too soon for his hopes and those of 
many others of his party, though not too soon 
for the interests of religion and humanity. All 
expectation of seeing the admirer and apologist 
of Wolsey emerge from his obscurity must end 
with the accession of the protestant princess 
Elizabeth. 

It is therefore not surprising, and on what is 
the whole rather favourable to our ar- George ca- 

, , , II 1 • I vcndisi) of 

gument, that nearly all which can now Gknwfbni. 



44 WHO WROTE 

be collected of George Cavendish of Glems- 
ford is contained in the following passage ex- 
tracted from certain " Notices of the manor 
of Cavendish in Suffolk, and of the Cavendish 
family while possessed of that manor," which was 
communicated to the Society of Antiquaries by 
Thomas Ruggles, Esq., the owner of the said 
manor ^. Cavendish, it will be recollected, is a 
manor adjoining to Glemsford, and which be- 
longed to the same parties. 

George Cavendish is stated to be the eldest 
son of Thomas Cavendish, Esq. who was clerk 
of the pipe in the Exchequer. He " was in pos- 
session of the manor of Cavendish Overhall, and 
had two sons ; William was the eldest, to whom, 
in the fourth year of Philip and Mary, 1558, he 
granted by deed enrolled in Chancery this manor 
in fee, on the said William, releasing to his fa- 
ther one annual payment of twenty marks, and 
covenanting to pay him yearly for life, at the site 
of the mansion-house of Spains-haU, in the pa- 
rish of Finchingfield, in the county of Essex, 
forty pounds, at the four usual quarterly days 
of payment. When George Cavendishe died is 
uncertain : but it is apprehended in 1561 or 
1562. 

" William Cavendishe his son was in posses- 

* Archaeologia, vol. xi. p. 50 — 62. 



cavendish's wolsey? 45 

sion of the manor in the fourth year of EHza- 

beth." " He was succeeded m this estate by 

his son William Cavendysh of London, mercer, 
who, by that description, and reciting himself to 
be the son of AVilliam Cavendishe, gentleman, 
deceased, by deed dated the 25th of July, in the 
eleventh year of the reign of Elizabeth, 1569, 
released all his right and title to this estate, and 
to other lands lying in different parishes, to Wil- 
liam Downes of Sudbury, in Suffolk, Esq." 

This detail plainly intimates that His fortune 
decay of the consequence and circum- ^^^^y^^- 
stances of a family which we might expect from 
the complaints in the Memoirs of Wolsey, of the 
unequal dealings of fortune, and of the little 
reward all the writer's "painfull diligence" had 
received. We see George Cavendish, for a small 
annual payment in money, giving up the ancient 
inheritance of his family, a manor called after his 
own name : and only eleven years after, that very 
estate passed to strangers to the name and blood 
of the Cavendishes by his grandson and next 
heir, who was engaged in trade in the city of 
London. We find also what we have the Married be- 
concurrent testimony of the heralds of ^°^^ '^^*^* 
that time to prove, that this George Cavendish 
was married, and the father of sons : but on a 
closer inspection we find more than this : we dis- 



46 



WHO WROTE 



cover that he must have been married as early as 
1526, when we first find the biogi'apher of Wol- 
sey a member of the Cardinal's household 9. 
William Cavendish, the younger, grandson to 
George Cavendish, must have been of full age 
before he could convey the estate of his forefa- 
thers. He w^as born therefore as early as 1548. 
If from this we take a presumed age of his father 
at the time of his birth, we shall arrive at this 
conclusion, that George Cavendish the grand- 
father was a family-man at least as early as 1526. 
A Catholic. To another point, namely, the religious 
profession of this Suffolk gentleman, our proof, 
it must be allowed, is not so decisive. I rely 
however, with some confidence, upon this fact, 
for which we are indebted to the heralds, that 
he was nearly allied to Sir Thomas More, the 
idol of the Catholic party in his own time, and 
the object of just respect with good men in aU 
times, Margery his wife being a daughter of 
William Kemp of Spains-hall in Essex, Esq. by 
Mary Colt his wife, sister to Jane, first wife of 
the Chancellor 1. Indeed it seems as if the 
Kemps, in whose house the latter days of this 



" See page 4. 

' See Vincent's Suffolk. MS. in Col. Arm. fol. 149, and com- 
pare with Morant's Essex, vol. ii. p. 363, and with the account of 
the Cavendishes in the Peerages. 



cavendish's wolsey? 47 

George Cavendish were spent, were of tlie old 
profession. The extraordinary penance to which 
one of this family subjected himself savours 
strongly of habits and opinions generated by the 
Roman Catholic system. It is per- Lived in 

. , , / the three 

haps unnecessary, ni the last place, reigns. 
to remind the reader, that what Mr. Ruggles 
has discovered to us of the owner of Caven- 
dish shows that his life was extended through 
the reigns of the second, third, and fourth 
monarchs of the house of Tudor : now the fa- 
mily pedigrees present us with no other George 
Cavendish of whom this is the truth. And here 
the case is closed. 

It has been thought proper to annex Genealogy. 
the following genealogical table, which exhibits 
the relationship subsisting among the several 
members of the house of Cavendish whose 
names have been mentioned in the preceding 
treatise. 



48 




WHO 


WROTE 




Thomas Cavendish, =pAi.icE,daught 


er and heir of 


Clerk of the Pipt 




John Smith of Padbrook- 


WiO. dated 13th April 


1523. 


hall, CO. SuflP. 


Died next year. 








George, = 


j=MarGERY, SirWlLLIAM,= 


i=ELIZABETH,third 


of Glemsford and 


daughter of of North 


wife, daughter of 


Cavendish, Esq. 


Wm. 


Kemp, Awbrey, and 


John Hardwick, 


eldest sonand heir. 


of 


Spains- Chats worth. 


of Hardwick, co. 


Gentleman usher 


hall. 


Essex, Knt. Auditor 


Derby, Esq. wi- 


to Cardinal Wol- 


niece 


to Sir of the Court 


dow of Robert 


sey, and writer of 


Thos 


More, of Augmen- 


Barlow, of Bar- 


his life. Born 




tations, &c. 


low, in the same 


about 1500. Died 




Under age 


county. She sur- 


about 1561 or 




1523. Died 


vived Cavendish, 


1562. 




1557. 


and married Sir 
Wm. St. Lowe, 
and George 6th 
Earl of Shrews- 










bury. 


r ■ 

! 






William, 




1. Henry, 


1. Frances, 


gent. 




ofTutbury 


Wife of Sir 


Owner of the 




s.p. 


Henry Pierre- 


manor of Caven- 






point. 


dish 1562. 
( 




1 


2. Elizabeth, 


1 
1 




1 

2. William, 


William, 




created Earl of 


Wife of Charles 


of London, mer- 




Devonshire 16 


Stuart, Earl of 


cer. Sold Ca- 




Jac. I. 1618. 


Lenox. 


vendish 1569. 






1 






3. Sir Charles, 


i 
3. Mary, 






ofWelbeck, 


Wife of Gilbert 






father of WiUiam 


Talbot, Earl of 






Duke of Newcas- 
tle. 


Shrewsbury. 



Supposing that the reader is con- 
themis- vinced by the preceding evidence and 
propriation argumeiits, that this work could not 
be the production of Sir William Ca- 
vendish, and that he was not the faithful attend- 



cavendish's wolseyv 49 

ant upon Cardinal Wolsey, I shall give him cre- 
dit for a degree of curiosity to know how it hap- 
pened that a story so far from the truth gained 
possession of the public mind, and established 
itself in so many works of acknowledged autho- 
rity. That desire I shall be able to gratify, and 
will detain him but a little while longer, when 
the disclosure has been made of a process by 
which error has grown up to the exclusion of 
truth, in which it will be allowed that there is 
something of curiosity and interest. Error, like 
rumour, often appears i^arva metii jirimo, but, 
like her also, vires acquirit eunclo. So it has 
been in the present instance. What was at first 
advanced with all the due modesty of probability 
and conjecture, was repeated by another person 
as something nearer to certain truth : soon every 
thing which intimated that it was only conjec- 
ture became laid aside, and it appeared with the 
broad bold front in which we now behold it. 
The father of this misconception was Rennet. 
no other than Dr. White Kennet. In I7O8, 
being then only Archdeacon of Huntingdon, this 
eloquent divine published a sermon which he 
had delivered in the great church at Derby, at 
the funeral of William the first Duke of Devon- 
shire. Along with it he gave to the world Me- 
moirs of the Family of Cavendish, in which 
nothing was omitted that, in his opinion, miglit 



50 WHO WROTE 

tend to set off his subject to the best advantage. 
He lauds even the Countess of Shrewsbury, and 
this at a time when he was called to contemplate 
the virtues and all womanly perfections of Chris- 
tian Countess of Devonshire. It was not to be 
expected that he should forget the disinterested 
attendant upon Wolsey, and the ingenious me- 
morialist of that great man's rise and fall ; whose 
work had then recently been given to the public 
in a third edition. After reciting from it some 
particulars of Cavendish's attendance upon the 
Cardinal, and especially noticing his faithful ad- 
herence to him when others of his domestics had 
fled to find a sun not so near its setting, he con- 
cludes in these words : " To give a more lasting 
testimony of his gratitude to the Cardinal, he 
drew up a fair account of his life and death, of 
which the oldest copy is in the hands of the 
noble family of Pierrepoint, into which the au- 
thor's daughter was married : for without express 
authority we may gather from circumstances, that 
this very writer was the head of the present 
family ; the same person with the immediate 
founder of the present noble family, William 
Cavendish of Chatsworth, com. Derb. Esq."p. QS. 
Collins. The editors of the Peerages, ever 

attentive to any disclosure that may add dignity 
to the noble families whose lives and actions are 
the subjects of their labours, were not unmind- 



cavendish's wolsey? 51 

fill of this discovery made by the learned Arcli- 
deacon. The book so popular in this country 
under the name of Collinses Peerage was pub- 
lished by the industrious and highly respectable 
Arthur Collins, then a bookseller at the Black 
Boy in Fleet-street, in a single volume, in the 
year I7O9. In the account of the Devonshire 
family no more is said of Sir William Cavendish 
than had been told by Dugdale, and than is the 
undoubted truth 2. But when, in I7I2, anew 
edition appeared, we find added to the account 
of Sir William Cavendish all that the Archdeacon 
had said of Mr. Cavendish, the attendant upon 
Wolsey : but with this remarkable difference, 
arising probably in nothing more blameworthy 
than inattention, that while Kennet had written 
" for ivithout express authority we may gather 
from circumstances, &c." Collins says, " for 
with express authority we may gather from cir- 
cumstances, &c.^" A third edition appeared in 
1715, in two volumes, in which no change is 
made in the Cavendish article^. In 1735 the 
Peerage had assumed a higher character, and 
appeared with the arms engraven on copper- 
plates, in four handsome octavo volumes. In 
this edition we find the whole article has been 
recomposcd ; and we no longer hear of the 

^Seepage 81.. -iSecp. lOO. 4 Vol. i. p. 1 06. 



52 WHO WROTE 

gathering from circumstances^ or the with or 
without express authority; but the account of 
Sir William Cavendish's connexion with the Car- 
dinal is told with all regularity, dovetailed with 
authentic particulars of his life, forming a very 
compact and, seemingly, consistent story^. The 
only material change that has been introduced 
in the successive editions of a work which has 
been so often revised and reprinted, has arisen 
from the discovery made by some later editor, 
that my Lord Herbert had quoted the work as 
the production of a George Cavendish. The 
gentle editors were not however to be deprived 
of what tended in their opinion so much to the 
credit of the house of Cavendish, and rendered 
the account they had to give of its founder so 
much more satisfactory. Without ceremony, 
therefore, they immediately put down the quota- 
tion to the inaccuracy and inattention of that 
noble author. 

TheBiogra- Haviug oucc gained an establish- 
^^'^" ment in a work so highly esteemed and 

so widely dispersed, and carrying a 'prima facie 
appearance of truth, it is easy to see how the 



5 Vol. i. p. 122. It is singular enough that in this edition the 
name of the Cardinal's attendant and biographer, by a slip of the 
pen, is written George. See line 38. It is plain from the connexion 
that this must have been an unintended blunder into the truth. It 
was duly corrected in the later editions. 



cavendish's wolsey? 53 

error would extend itself, especially as in this 
country the number of persons is so small who 
attend to questions of this nature, and as the 
means of correcting it were not so obvious as 
since the publication of the " Ecclesiastical Bio- 
graphy." But it assumed its most dangerous 
consequence by its introduction into the Bio- 
graphia. The greatest blemish of that extremely 
valuable collection of English lives seems to be 
that its pages are too much loaded with stale 
genealogy taken from the commonest of our 
books. Wherever Collins afforded them informa- 
tion, the writers of that work have most gladly 
accepted of it, and have 



whisper'd whence they stole 



Their balmy sweets/' 

by using in many instances his own words. His 
facts they seem to have generally assumed as in- 
dubitable. In the present instance nothing more 
was done than to new-mould the account given 
of Sir William Cavendish in the later editions of 
the Peerage, and, by an unprofitable generaliza- 
tion of the language, to make his mixture of 
truth and fable more palatable to the taste of 
their readers. 

Poor Arthur Collins was not the only ^^^^^ ^^^^ 
bookseller who took advantage of the ''°°^^'^"^'- 
learned archdeacon's unfortunate conjecture. 
There was one Bragg, a printer, at the Blue Ball 



54 WHO WROTE 

in Ave Maria Lane, a man of no very high cha- 
racter in his profession, who published in I706 
an edition of Cavendish's Life of Wolsey, taken 
from the second edition by Dorman Newman, 
and with all the errors and omissions of that most 
unfaithful impression. Copies were remaining 
upon his shelves when Kennet's sermon made 
its appearance. Rightly judging that this must 
cause inquiries to be made after a book, the pro- 
duction of one who was the progenitor of a per- 
son and family at that particular period, from 
a concurrence of circumstances, the subject of 
universal conversation, he cancelled the anony- 
mous title-page of the remaining copies, and 
issued what he called a *' Second Edition," with 
a long Grub-street title beginning thus : 

Sir William Cavendish's 

Memoirs of the Life of Cardinal Wolsey, 

&c. 

This has sometimes been mistaken for a really 
new edition of the work. 

Editions of And liavi ug thus adverted to the 
the work. different editions, it may not be impro- 
per to add a few words on the impressions which 
have been issued of this curious biographical 
fragment. Till Dr. Wordsworth favoured the 
public with his " Ecclesiastical Biography," 
what we had was rather an abridgement than 
the genuine work. But even in its mutilated 



cavendish's wolsey ? 55 

form it was always popular, and the copies were 
marked at considerable prices in the booksellers* 
catalogues. 

The first edition, it is believed, is that in 4to, 
London, 1641, for William Sheeres, with the 
title " The Negotiations of Thomas Woolsey, 
the great Cardinal! of England, &c. composed 
by one of his own Servants, being his Gentle- 
man-Usher." The second was in 12mo, Lon- 
don, 1667, for Dorman Newman, and is entitled 
'* The Life and Death of Thomas Woolsey, 
Cardinal, &c. written by one of his own Ser- 
vants, being his Gentleman-Usher." The third 
is the one just mentioned in 8vo, London, 1706» 
for B. Bragg, and having for its title " The" 
Memoirs of that great Favourite Cardinal Wool- 
sey, &c." It is supposed that it was first made 
public in order to provoke a comparison between 
Wolsey and the unpopular Archbishop Laud. 
These are the only editions known to the writer. 

It is printed in the form of notes to Grove's 
History of the Life and Times of CarcUnal 
Wolsey^, again in the Harleian Miscellany, and 



•'Mr. Grove subsequently (in 1761) met with what he con- 
sidered " an antient and curious manuscript copy written about 
one hundred and fifty years ago," and from this he printed an 
edition in 8vo, with a preface and notes, the advertisement to 
which bears the above date. It appears to be one of the rarest of 
EngUsh books, and was probably never published : the copy with 



56 WHO WROTE 

in the selection from that work. And last of 
all, it forms a most valuable part of the " Eccle- 
siastical Biography," published by Dr. Words- 
worth. 

It must not however be concealed 

The sup- 
posed edition that mcutiou has been made of a still 

earlier edition than any of those above 
described. Bishop Nicholson, in his English 
Historical Library 7, asserts that it was published 
at London in 4to, 1590 ; and in this he is fol- 
lowed by Dodd the Catholic historian. Nichol- 
son's authority is not very high in respect of 
bibliographical information ; and there is great 
reason to believe that he has here described an 
edition to be found only in the Bibliotheca ab- 
scondita of Sir Thomas Brown. This however 
is certain, that the commentators on Shakspeare 
are agreed, that though the labours of Caven- 
dish must have been known in part to our great 
Dramatist, he has follow^ed them so closely in 
many of his scenes, it could have been only by 
a perusal of them in manuscript, or by the ample 
quotations made from them in the pages of Hol- 



which I have been favoured by Richard Heber, Esq. M. P. having 
no title-page. There are other curious tracts in the volume on the 
subject of Wolsey, having separate titles bearing no bookseller's 
name, but purporting to be printed for the Author by Dryden 
Leach, and all in 1761. S. W. S. 

7 4to, 1776, p. 116. 



cavendish's wolsey ? 57 

linshead and Stowe. Mr. Malone indeed ex- 
pressly affirms that they were not sent to the 
press before 1641. The earliest edition known 
to the editor of the Censura Literaria, whose in- 
timate acquaintance with early English literature 
every one acknowledges, and whose attention 
has been peculiarly drawn to this work, was of 
that date. The catalogues, published and un- 
published, of most of our principal libraries have 
been consulted, and no earlier edition than that 
of 1641 found in any one of them. No earlier 
edition than that is to be found in the Royal 
Library at Paris. It appears, therefore, on the 
whole, most probable that though there are un- 
doubtedly black-letter stores, which the diligence 
of modern bibliomaniacs has not brought to 
light, no such edition exists, as that which the 
author of the English Historical Library tells 
us was published in the reign of Queen Eliza- 
beth, and during the height of the persecutions 
which she authorized against the Catholics. 
Under this persuasion the succeeding sheets have 
been composed. 

It is possible that Bishop Nicholson may have 
been misled by another work on the same sub- 
ject ; The Aspiring, Triumph, and Fall of 
Wolsey, by Thomas Storer, Student of Christ 
Church. This appeared in quarto^ 1599. 

The writer now lays down his pen Conclusion. 



58 WHO WROTE 

with something like a persuasion that it will be 
allowed he has proved his two points, — that Sir 
William Cavendish of Chatsworth could not 
have been the author of the Life of Wolsey, and 
that we owe the work to his brother George 
Cavendish of Glemsford. The necessary infer- 
ence also is, that the foundation of the present 
grandeur of the house of Cavendish was not laid, 
as is commonly understood, in an attendance 
upon Cardinal Wolsey, and in certain favourable 
circumstances connected with that service. The 
inquiry, even in all its bearings, like many other 
Uterary inquiries, cannot be considered as of 
very high importance. The writer will not 
however affect to insinuate that he considers it 
as of no consequence. In works so universally 
consulted as the Biographia and the Peerages, 
it is desirable that no errors of any magni- 
tude should remain undetected and unexposed. 
Error begets error, and truth begets truth : nor 
can any one say how much larger in both cases 
may be the offspring than the sire. I do not 
indeed scruple to acknowledge, that, though not 
without a relish for inquiries which embrace 
objects of far greater magnitude, and a disposi- 
tion justly to appreciate their value, I should be 
thankful to the man who should remove my un- 
certainty, as to whose countenance w^as concealed 
by the Masque de Fef\ or would tell me whe- 



CAVENDISH S WOLSEY ? .59 

ther Richard was the hunch-backed tyrant, and 
Harry " the nimble-footed mad-cap" exhibited 
by our great dramatist ; whether Charles wrote 
the EiKwy Bao-iAixi;, and Lady Packington " The 
whole Duty of Man." Not that I would place 
this humble disquisition on a level with the in- 
quiries which have been instituted and so learn- 
edly conducted into these several questions. 
In one material point, however, even this dis- 
quisition may challenge an equality with them. 
There is a much nearer approach made to cer- 
tainty than in the discussions of any of the 
abovementioned so much greater questions. 

There are amongst readers of books some 
persons whose minds being every moment oc- 
cupied in the contemplation of objects of the 
highest importance, look down with contempt 
upon the naturalist at his leiicophr^, the critic 
at his /x£v and h work, the astronomer at his 
nebula, and the toiling antiquary at every thing. 
One word to these gentlemen before we part. 
To them may be recommended the words of a 
writer of our own day, a man of an enlarged 
and highly cultivated mind : — 

" He who determines with certainty a single 
species of the minutest moss, or meanest insect, 
adds so far to the general stock of human know- 
ledge, which is more than can be said of many 
a celebrated name. No one can tell of what 



60 WHO WROTE cavendish's WOLSEY ? 

importance that simple fact may be to future 
ages : and when we consider how many milUons 
of our fellow-creatures pass through life without 
furnishing a single atom to augment that stock, 
we shall learn to think with more respect of 
those who do." 



THE END. 



^ftt Mt of C|)omas fSKolsep, 

jsomttimt ^rcPtgiSop of ^orfet 
antr ^arKinal, 

mtitultlr Sbanctee ©tctliee trans ^fttrim, 
^rtsbittr (^Tartrmalis, anlr H. ©j&aiudlor of lEnglanlf, 

ajatittcn bp 
©forge ©abenUf?i5> Jiomctfmc ^{g fficntlcman Wi^f)et, 



This Cardinal, 



Though from an humble stock, undoubtedly 

Was fashion'd to much honour from his cradle. 

He was a scholar, and a ripe, and good one ; 

Exceeding wise, fair spoken, and persuading : 

Lofty, and sour, to them that lov'd him not. 

But, to those men that sought him, sweet as summer. 

And though he were unsatisfied in getting, 

(Which was a sin), yet in bestowing — 

He was most princely : Ever witness for him 

Ipswich and Oxford ! one of which fell with him. 

Unwilling to outlive the good that did it ; 

The other, though unfinish'd, yet so famous. 

So excellent in art, and yet so rising. 

That Christendom shall ever speak his virtue. 

His overthrow heap'd happiness upon him ; 

For then, and not till then, he felt himself. 

And found the blessedness of being little : 

And, to add greater honours to his age 

Than man could give him, he died fearing God. 

Shakspeare. 




C^iPvDHSr-AL TVnoi.SEl-. 



VRAXT^I) BY E.SCKXVTIM. 



iVFTER TIIF, OUrCrrNAL IMC'J'UTiE. 



J'ubU,!lie/i. Jim.'l.in:">, hvir/inti/in. Tni>;i,',-k\A lefianf . 



THE 

LIFE 

OF 

CARDINAL WOLSEY, 



THE PROLOGUE. 

[Meseems it were no wisdom to credit every 
light tale, blasted abroad by the blasphemous 
mouth of the rude commonalty. For we daily 
hear how, with their blasphemous trump, they 
spread abroad innumerable lies, without either 
shame or honesty, which prima facte showeth 
forth a visage of truth, as though it were a per- 
fect verity and matter indeed, whereas there is 
nothing more untrue. And amongst the wise 
sort so it is esteemed, with whom those bab- 
blings be of small force and effect. 

Forsooth I have read the exclamations of 
divers worthy and notable authors, made against 
such false rumours and fond opinions of the fan- 
tastical commonalty, who delighteth in nothing 
more than to hear strange things, and to see 



64 THE LIFE OF 

new alterations of authorities j rejoicing some- 
times in such new fantasies, which afterwards 
give them more occasion of repentance than of 
joyfulness. Thus may all men of wisdom and 
discretion understand the temerous madness of 
the rude commonalty, and not give to them too 
hasty credit of every sudden rumour, until the 
truth be perfectly known by the report of some 
approved and credible person, that ought to 
have thereof true intelligence. I have heard 
and also seen set forth in divers printed books 
some untrue imaginations, after the death of 
divers persons, which in their life were of great 
estimation, that were invented rather to bring 
their honest names into infamy and perpetual 
slander of the common multitude, than other- 
wise. 

The occasion therefore that maketh me to 
rehearse all these things is this ; for as much as 
I intend, God willing, to write here some part 
of the proceedings of] i Legate and Cardinal 
Wolsey, Archbishop of York, and of his ascending 
and descending from honorous estate ; whereof 
some part shall be of mine own knowledge, and 
some of other person's information. 

Forsooth this cardinal was my lord and mas- 
ter, whom in his life I served, and so remained 

' The autograph MS. begins here. 



CARDINAL WOLSEY. 65 

witli liim, after his flill, continually, during the 
term of all his trouble, until he died ; as well in 
tlie south as in the north parts, and noted all his 
demeanor and usage in all that time ; as also in 
his wealthy triumph and glorious estate. And 
since his death I have heard diverse sundry sur- 
mises and imagined tales, made of his proceed- 
ings and doings, which I myself have perfectly 
known to be most untrue ; unto the which I 
could have sufficiently answered according to 
truth, but, as me seemeth, then it was mucli 
better for me to suffer, and dissemble the matter, 
and the same to remain still as lies, than to 
reply against their untruth, of whom I might, 
for my boldness, sooner have kindled a great 
flame of displeasure, than to quench one spark 
of their malicious untruth. Therefore I commit 
the truth to Him who knoweth all things. For, 
whatsoever any man hath conceived in him when 
he lived, or since his death, thus much I dare 
be bold to say, without displeasure to any per- 
son, or of affection, that in my judgment I never 
saw this realm in better order, quietness, and 
obedience, than it was in the time of his autho- 
rity and rule, ne justice better ministered with 
indifferency ; as I could evidently prove, if I 
should not be accused of too much affection, or 
else that I set forth more tlian truth. I will 
tiierefore here desist to speak any more in his 

F 



66 THE LIFE OF 

commendation, and proceed farther to his ori- 
ginal beginning [and] ascending by fortune's 
favour to high honours, dignities, promotions, 
and riches. 

Finis quod G, C. 



Truth it is, Cardinal Wolsey, sometime Arch- 
bishop of York, was an honest poor man's son 2, 
born in Ipswich, within the county of Suffolk y 
and being but a child, was very apt to learning ; 
by means whereof his parents, or his good 
friends and masters, conveyed him to the Uni- 
versity of Oxford, where he prospered so in 
learning, that, as he told me [in] his own per- 
son, he was called the boy-bachellor, forasmuch 
as he was made Bachellor of Arts at fifteen 
years of age, which was a rare thing, and seldom 
seen. 



^ He was born in the year 1471. See Fiddes's Life of Wolsey, 
p. 2. 1726. By some it has been said that his father was a 
butcher, but the foundation for this assertion is not known. The 
zealous biographer of the cardinal, Mr. Grove, made two suc- 
cessive journeys to Ipswich for the purpose of obtaining informa- 
tion respecting him, but the whole fruit of both expeditions was 
ascertaining the Christian name of Wolsey's father, and that he 
was a man of some substance ! He printed, however, what he 
calls " The Life of Robert Wolsey, of Ipswich, Gentleman," in 
1761 ! The will of Wolsey's father was published by Dr. Fiddes, 
and for its curiosity I shall give it a place in tlie Appendix. 



CARDINAL WOLSEY. 67 

Thus prospering and increasing- in learning, 
[he] was made Fellow of Magdalen College, 
and after appointed, for his learning, to be 
schoolmaster there ; at which time the Lord 
Marquess Dorset had three of his sons there at 
school with him, committing as well unto him 
their virtuous education, as their instruction and 
learning. It pleased the said marquess against 
a Christmas season, to send as well for the 
schoolmaster as for his children, home to his 
house, for their recreation in that pleasant and 
honourable feast. They being then there, my 
lord their father perceived them to be right well 
employed in learning, for their time : which con- 
tented him so well, that he having a benefice ^ 
in his gift, being at that time void, gave the 
same to the schoolmaster, in reward for his dili- 
gence, at his departing after Christmas upon his 
return to the University. And having the pre- 
sentation thereof [he] repaired to the ordinary 
for his institution and induction ; then being 
fully furnished of all necessary instruments at 
the ordinary's hands for his preferment, he made 
speed without any farther delay to the said 
benefice to take thereof possession. And being 
there for that intent, one Sir Amyas Pawlet, 



^ The place was Lymington, in the Diocese of Bath and Wells. 
He was instituted October 10, a. n. 1,>0(). Fiddcx, p. .5. 

f2 



68 THE LIFE OF 

knight, dwelling in the country thereabout, took 
an occasion of displeasure against him, upon 
what ground I know not^: but, sir, by your 
leave, he was so bold to set the schoolmaster by 
the feet during his pleasure ; the which was 
afterward neither forgotten nor forgiven. For 
when the schoolmaster mounted the dignity to 
be Chancellor of England, he was not oblivious 
of the old displeasure ministered unto him by 
master Pawlet, but sent for him, and after many 
sharp and heinous words, enjoined him to attend 
upon the council until he were by them dismissed, 
and not to depart without license, upon an urgent 
pain and forfeiture : so that he continued within 
the Middle Temple, the space of five or six 
years, or more ; whose lodging there was in the 
gate-house next the street, which he reedified 
very sumptuously, garnishing the same, on the 
outside thereof, with cardinals' hats and arms, 
badges and cognisaunces of the cardinal, with 
divers other devices, in so glorious a sort, that 
he thought thereby to have appeased his old 
unkind displeasure. 

4 The tradition is, that Wolsey was set in the stocks by Sir 
Amyas Pawlet's direction, for disorderly conduct at a fair where 
he had drunk to excess. The ground for this assertion is not 
known, but it seems to rest upon no earlier authority than that of 
Sir John Harrington. It may be remarked that Storer, in his 
metrical Life of Wolsey, represents him as the injured pai-ty : 

" Wrong'd by a knight for no desert of mine." 



CARDINAL WOLSEY. 69 

Now may this be a good example and pre- 
cedent to men in authority, wliich will sometimes 
work their will without wit, to remember in their 
authority, how authority may decay ; and [those] 
whom they punish of will more than of justice, 
may after be advanced in the public weal to high 
dignities and governance, and they based as 
low, who will then seek the means to be re- 
venged of old wrongs sustained wrongfully before. 
Who would have thought then, when Sir Amyas 
Pawlet punished this poor scholar, that ever 
he should have attained to be Chancellor of 
England, considering his baseness in every con- 
dition. These be wonderful works of God, and 
fortune. Therefore I would wish all men in 
authority and dignity to know and fear God in 
all their triumphs and glory ; considering in all 
then' doings, that authorities be not permanent, 
but may slide and vanish, as princes' pleasures 
do alter and change. 

Then as all living things must of very neces- 
sity pay the due debt of nature, which no earthly 
creature can resist, it chanced my said Lord 
Marquess to depart out of this present life 5. 
After whose death this schoolmaster, considering 
then with himself to be but a small beneficed 



>cptcmbcr, 1501. 



70 THE LIFE OF 

man, and to have lost his fellowship in the Col- 
lege (for, as I understand, if a fellow of that 
college be once promoted to a benefice he shall 
by the rules of the house be dismissed of his 
fellowship), and perceiving himself also to be 
destitute of his singular good lord, thought not 
to be long unprovided of some other succour or 
staff, to defend him from all such harms, as he 
lately sustained. 

And in his travail thereabout, he fell in ac- 
quaintance with one Sir John Nanphant^, a very 
grave and ancient knight, who had a great room 7 
in Calais under King Henry the Seventh. This 
knight he served, and behaved him so discreetly, 
and justly, that he obtained the especial favour 
of his said master ; insomuch that for his wit, 
gravity, and just behaviour, he committed all the 
charge of his office unto his chaplain. And, as 
I understand, the office was the treasurership of 
Calais, who was, in consideration of his great 
age, discharged of his chargeable room, and 
returned again into England, intending to live 

6 Fiddes asserts that Sir John Nanfan was a Somersetshire gen- 
tleman. Nash, in his History of Worcestershire states, that the 
father and the son have been confounded, and that it was Sir 
Richard Nanfan, a gentleman of that county, who was captain of 
Calais about this time, i. e. circa 1503. His son's name was Sir 
John ; but it is evident that the words a very grave and ancient 
knight can only apply to Sir Richard. 

7 Place, or office. 



CARDINAL WOLSEY. Jl 

more at quiet. And through his instant labour 
and especial favour his chaplain was promoted 
to the king's service, and made his chaplain. 
And when he had once cast anchor in the port of 
promotion, how he wrought, I shall somewhat 
declare. 

He, having then a just occasion to be in the 
present sight of the king daily, by reason he 
attended, and said mass before his grace in his 
private closet, and that done he spent not the 
day forth in vain idleness, but gave his attend- 
ance upon those whom he thought to bear 
most rule in the council, and to be most in 
favour with the king, the which at that time were 
Doctor Fox, Bishop of Winchester, then secre- 
tary and lord privy seal, and also Sir Thomas 
Lovell, knight, a very sage counsellor, and witty ; 
being master of the king's wards, and constable 
of the Tower ^. 

These ancient and grave counsellors in pro- 
cess of time after often resort, perceived this 
chaplain to have a very fine wit, and what wis- 
dom was in his head, thought [him] a meet and 
an apt person to be preferred to witty affairs. 

" Wolsey had not only the address and good qualities neces- 
sary to the acquisition of such friends, but also retained them to 
the last. Tlie affection of Bishop Fox is apparent in the last letter 
which he wrote to him ; and Sir Thomas Lovell's esteem was 
manifested to the close of his life, for he leaves him in his will 
" a standing cup of golde, and one hundred marks in golde." 



72 THE LIFE OF 

It chanced at a certain season that the king 
had an urgent occasion to send an ambassador 
unto the emperor Maximilian ^, who lay at that 
present in the Low Country of Flanders, not far 
from Calais. The Bishop of Winchester, and 
Sir Thomas Lovell, whom the king most highly 
esteemed, as chief among his counsellors (the 
king one day counselling and debating with 
them upon this embassy )4 saw they had a con- 
venient occasion to prefer the king's chaplain, 
whose excellent wit, eloquence ^, and learning 
they highly commended to the king. The king 
giving ear unto them, and being a prince of an 
excellent judgment and modesty, commanded 
[them] to bring his chaplain, whom they so much 
commended, before his grace's presence. At 
whose repair [thither] to prove the wit of his 
chaplain, the king fell in communication with 
him in matters of weight and gravity : and, per- 
ceiving his wit to be very fine, thought him 
sufficient to be put in authority and trust with 
this embassy ; [and] commanded him thereupon 
to prepare himself to this enterprise and journey. 



9 This mission related to the intended treaty of marriage be- 
tween Henry the Seventh, and the Duchess Dowager of Savoy. 

' Shakspeare represents the cardinal as " Exceeding wise, fair 
spoken and persuading ;" and one of the charges exhibited against 
him was, that " at the privy council he would have all the words 
to himself, and consumed the time with a fair tale !" 



CARDINAL WOLSEY. 73 

and for his depeche -, to repair to his grace and 
his trusty counsellors aforesaid, of wliom he 
should receive his commission and instructions. 
By means whereof he had then a due occasion 
to repair from time to time into the king's pre- 
sence, who perceived him more and more to be 
a very wise man, and of a good entendment 3. 
And having his depeche, [he] took his leave of 
the king at Richmond about noon, and so came 
to London with speed [about four of the clock ^], 
where then the barge of Gravesend was ready 
to launch forth, both with a prosperous tide and 
wind. Without any fartlier abode he entered 
the barge, and so passed forth. His happy 
speed was such that he arrived at Gravesend 
within little more than three hours ; where he 
tarried no longer than his post horses were 
provided ; and travelling so speedily with post 
horses, that he came to Dover the next morn- 
ing early, whereas the passengers ^ were ready 
under sail displayed, to sail to Calais. Into 
which passengers without any farther abode he 
entered, and sailed forth with them, [so] that he 
arrived at Calais within three hours, and having 

■^ Dispatch. ^ Understanding. "i Wordsworth's Ed. 

5 By passengers the reader will see by tlie context that the pas- 
sage boats are meant. It was the usual phrase to signify a ferry- 
man, and also his boat, from passager, Fr. Thus in Baret's 
Alvearic, " A passenger, one that conveycth over many, convector." 



74< THE LIFE OF 

there post horses in a readiness, departed incon- 
tinent, making such hasty speed, that he was 
that night with the emperor ; who, having under- 
standing of the coming of the King of England's 
ambassador, would in no wise defer the time, 
but sent incontinent for him (his affection unto 
King Henry the Seventh was such, that he 
rejoiced when he had an occasion to show him 
pleasure). The ambassador having opportunity, 
disclosed the sum of his embassy unto the em- 
peror, of whom he required speedy expedition, 
the which was granted ; so that the next day 
he was clearly dispatched, with all the king's 
requests fully accomplished. At which time he 
made no farther tarriance, but with post horses 
rode incontinent that night toward Calais again, 
conducted thither with such number of horse- 
men as the emperor had appointed, and [was] at 
the opening of the gates there, where the passen- 
gers were as ready to return into England as 
they were before in his advancing ; insomuch 
that he arrived at Dover by ten of the clock 
before noon ; and having post horses in a readi- 
ness, came to the court at Richmond that night. 
Where he taking his rest for that time until the 
morning, repaired to the king at his first coming 
out of his grace's bedchamber, toward his closet 
to hear mass. "Whom (when he saw) [he] 
checked him for that he was not past on his 



CARDINAL WOLSEY. 75 

journey. " Sir," quoth he, " if it may stand with 
your highness' pleasure, I have ah-eady been 
with the emperor, and dispatched your affau's, 1 
trust, to your grace's contentation." And with 
tliat deHvered unto the king the emperor's letters 
of credence. The king, being in a great confuse 
and wonder of his hasty speed with ready fur- 
niture of all his proceedings, dissimuled all his 
imagination and wonder in that matter, and de- 
manded of him, whether he encountered not his 
pursuivant, the which he sent unto him (sup- 
posing him not to be scantly out of London) 
with letters concerning a very necessary cause, 
neglected in his commission and instructions, 
the which the king coveted much to be sped. 
" Yes, forsooth, Sire," quoth he, " I encountered 
him yesterday by the way : and, having no un- 
derstanding by your grace's letters of your plea- 
sure therein, have, notwithstanding, been so 
bold, upon mine own discretion (perceiving that 
matter to be very necessary in that behalf) to 
dispatch the same. And for as much as I have 
exceeded your grace's commission, I most hum- 
bly require your gracious remission and pardon." 
The king rejoicing inwardly not a little, said 
again, *' We do not only pardon you thereof, 
but also give you our princely thanks, both for 
the proceeding therein, and also for your good 



76 THE LIFE OF 

and speedy exploit ^," commanding him for that 
time to take his rest, and to repair again to him 
after dinner, for the farther relation of his em- 
bassy. The king then went to mass ; and after 
at convenient time he went to dinner. 

It is not to be doubted but that this am- 
bassador hath been since his return with his 
great friends, the Bishop of Winchester, and 
vSir Thomas Lovell, to whom he hath declared 
the effect of all his speedy progress ; nor yet 
what joy they conceived thereof. And after his 
departure from the king in the morning, his 
highness sent for the bishop, and Sir Thomas 
Lovell ; to whom he declared the wonderful 
expedition of his ambassador, commending 
therewith his excellent wit, and in especial the 
invention and advancing of the matter left out of 



^ Thomas Storer, in his metrical Life of Wolsey, 1599, has the 
following stanza, in which the expedition Wolsey used on this 
occasion is not unpoetically alluded to : 
" The Argonautic vessel never past 
With swifter course along the Colchian main, 
Than my small bark with fair and speedy blast 
Convey'd me forth, and reconvey'd again ; 
Thrice had Arcturus driv'n his restless wain. 
And heav'n's bright lamp the day had thrice reviv'd 
From first departure, till I last arriv'd." 

This poem was reprinted by Mr. Park in the Supplement to the 
Harleian Miscellany. There are extracts from it in the Retro- 
spective Review, Vol. v. p. 275. 



CARDINAL WOLSEY. 77 

liis commission and instructions. The king's 
words rejoiced these worthy counsellors not a 
little, for as much as he was of their preferment. 
Then when this ambassador remembered the 
king's commandment, and saw the time draw 
fast on of his repair before the king and his 
council, [he] prepared him in a readiness, and 
resorted unto the place assigned by the king, 
to declare his embassy. Without all doubt he 
reported the effect of all his affairs and pro- 
ceedings so exactly, with such gravity and elo- 
quence that all the council that heard him could 
do no less but commend him, esteeming his 
expedition to be almost beyond the capacity of 
man. The king of his mere motion, and gracious 
consideration, gave him at that time for his 
diligent and faithful service, the deanery of 
Lincoln 7, which at that time was one of the 
worthiest spiritual promotions that he gave 
under the degree of a bishoprick. And thus 
from thenceforward he gi'ew more and more into 
estimation and authority, and after [was] pro- 
moted by the king to be his almoner. Here 
may all men note the chances of fortune, that 
followeth some whom she listeth to promote, 
and even so to some her favour is contrary, 
though they should travail never so much, with 

" lie was collated Feb. 2. a. d. 1.50s. Lc Neve's Fasti, 
y. 1 I.(j. 



78 THE LIFE OF 

[all the] urgent diligence and painful study, that 
they could devise or imagine : whereof, for my 
part, I have tasted of the experience. 

Now ye shall understand that all this tale 
that I have declared of his good expedition in 
the king's embassy, I received it of his own 
mouth and report, after his fall, lying at that 
time in the great park of Richmond, I being 
then there attending upon him ; taking an occa- 
sion upon divers communications, to tell me 
this journey, with all the circumstances, as I have 
here before rehearsed. 

When death (that favoureth none estate, king 
or keiser) had taken that prudent prince Henry 
the Seventh out of this present life (on whose 
soul Jesu have mercy !) who for his inestimable 
wisdom was noted and called, in every Christian 
region, the second Solomon, what practices, in- 
ventions, and compasses were then used about 
that young prince. King Henry the Eighth, his 
only son, and the great provision made for the 
funerals of the one, and the costly devices for 
the coronation of the other, with that virtuous 
Queen Catherine^, then the king's wife newly 



^ These words follow in most of the manuscripts^ but are pro- 
bably an interpolation : " and mother afterwards of the queen's 
highness, that now is, (whose virtuous life and godly disposition 
Jesu long preserve, and continue against the malignity of her 
corrupt enemies ! )" 




IIEA^RY TIIK EIC.IITII 



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1' l\' KF.N'f. 



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CARDINAL WOLSEY. 70 

married. I omit and leave the circumstances 
thereof to historiographers of chronicles of 
princes, the which is no part mine intendment. 
After all these solemnities and costly triumphs 
finished, and that our natural, young, lusty and 
courageous prince and sovereign lord. King 
Henry the Eighth, entering into the flower of 
pleasant youth, had taken upon him the regal 
sceptre and the imperial diadem of this fertile 
and plentiful realm of England (which at that 
time flourished in all abundance of wealth and 
riches, whereof he was inestimably garnished 
and furnished), called then the golden world, such 
gi-ace of plenty reigned then within this realm. 
Now let us return again unto the almoner (of 
whom I have taken upon me to write), whose head 
was full of subtil wit and policy, [and] perceiving 
a plain path to w^alk in towards promotion, [he] 
handled himself so politicly, that he found the 
means to be made one of the king's council, and 
to gi'ow in good estimation and favour with the 
king, to whom the king gave a house at Bride- 
well, in Fleet Street, sometime Sir Richard 
Empson's9, where he kept house for his family, 

" This house merged to the crown by the attainder of Empson, 
and appears to have been a princely dwelling, for in the patent, 
an orcliard and twelve gardens arc enumerated as belonging to it. 
The grant bears date in 1510. It stood upon the ground which is 
now occupied Ijy Salisbury Square and Dorset Street, its gardens 
rcacliing to the banks of the river. 



80 THE LIFE OF 

and he daily attended upon the king in the 
court, being in his especial grace and favour, 
[having]! then great suit made unto him, as 
counsellors most commonly have that be in 
favour. His sentences and witty persuasions in 
the council chamber [were] ^ always so pithy that 
they, always as occasion moved them, assigned 
him for his filed tongue and ornate eloquence, to 
be their expositor unto the king's majesty in all 
their proceedings. In whom the king conceived 
such a loving fantasy, and in especial for that 
he was most earnest and readiest among all the 
council to advance the king's only will and 
pleasure, without any resj/ect to the case ; the 
king, therefore, perceived him to be a meet in- 
strument for the accomplishment of his devised 
will and pleasure, called him more near unto 
him, and esteemed him so highly that his esti- 
mation and favour put all other ancient coun- 
sellors out of their accustomed favour, that 
they were in before ; insomuch that the king 
committed all his will and pleasure unto his dis- 
position and order. Who wrought so all his 
matters, that all his endeavour was only to satisfy 
the king's mind, knowing right well, that it 
was the very vein and right course to bring him 
to high promotion. The king was young and 

• Who had. MS. L. ^ Was. MS. L. 



CARDINAL WOLSEY. 81 

lusty, disposed all to mirth and pleasure, and 
to follow his desire and appetite, nothing mind- 
ing to travail in the busy affairs of this realm. 
The which the almoner perceiving very well, 
took upon him therefore to disburden the king 
of so weighty a charge and troublesome busi- 
ness, putting the king in comfort that he shall 
not need to spare any time of his pleasure, for 
any business that should necessarily happen in 
the council, as long as he, being there and having 
the king's authority and commandment, doubted 
not to see all things sufficiently furnished and 
perfected ; the which would first make the king 
privy of all such matters as should pass through 
their hands before he would proceed to the 
finishing or determining of the same, whose 
miild and pleasure he would fulfill and follow 
to the uttermost, wherewith the king was won- 
derly pleased. And whereas the other ancient 
counsellors would, according to the office of 
good counsellors, diverse times persuade the 
king to have sometime an intercourse in to 
the council, there to hear what was. done in 
weighty matters, the which pleased the king 
nothing at all, for he loved nothing worse than 
to be constrained to do any thing contrary to 
his royal will and pleasure ; and that knew the 
almoner very well, having a secret intelligence 
of the king's natural inclination, and so fast as 
the other counsellors advised the king to leave 

G 



82 THE LIFE OF 

his pleasure, and to attend to the affairs of his 
realm, so busily did the almoner persuade him 
to the contrary ; which delighted him much, and 
caused him to have the greater affection and love 
to the almoner. Thus the almoner ruled all 
them that before ruled him ; such [things] did 
his policy and wit bring to pass. Who was 
now in high favour, but Master Almoner ? Who 
had all the suit but Master Almoner ? And who 
ruled all under the king, but Master Almoner ? 
Thus he proceeded still in favour ; at last, in 
came presents, gifts, and rewards so plentifully, 
that I dare say he lacked nothing that might 
either please his fantasy or enrich his coffers ; 
fortune smiled so upon him ; but to what end 
she brought him, ye shall hear after. There- 
fore let all men, to whom fortune extendeth her 
grace, not trust too much to her fickle favour 
and pleasant promises, under colour whereof 
she carrieth venemous gall. For when she seeth 
her servant in most highest authority, and that 
he assureth himself most assuredly in her favour, 
then turneth she her visage and pleasant coun- 
tenance unto a frowning cheer, and utterly for- 
saketh him : such assurance is in her inconstant 
favour and sugared promise. Whose deceitful 
behaviour hath not been hid among the wise sort 
of famous clerks, that have exclaimed her and 
written vehemently against her dissimulation and 
feigned favour, warning all men thereby, the less 



CARDINAL WOLSEY. 83 

to regard her, and to have her in small estima- 
tion of any trust or faithfidness. 

.This almoner, climbing thus hastily on for- 
tune's wheel, that no man was of that estimation 
with the . king as he was, for his wisdom and 
other witty qualities, he had a special gift of 
natural eloquence^, with a filed tongue to pro- 

^ Dr. Wordsworth has cited a passage from Sir Thomas More, 
in his Dialog-ue of Co?nfort agai)ist Tribulation, in which is a lively 
and characteristic picture, " designed, no doubt, to represent the 
cardinal at the head of his own table." I could not refuse myself 
the pleasure of laying it before the reader. 

"Anthony. I praye you, cosyn, tell on. Vincent. Whan I was 
fyrste in Almaine, uncle, it happed me to be somewhat favoured 
with a great manne of the churche, and a great state, one of the 
greatest in all that country there. And in dede whosoever might 
spende as muche as hee mighte in one thinge and other, were a 
ryght great estate in anye countrey of Christendom. But glorious 
was hee verye farre above all measure, and that was great pitie, 
for it dyd harme, and made him abuse many great gyftes that 
God hadde given him. Never was he saciate of hearinge his owne 
prayse. 

So happed it one daye, that he had in a great audience made 
an oracion in a certayne matter, wherein he liked himselfe so 
well, that at his diner he sat, him thought, on thornes, tyll he might 
here how they that sat with hyra at his borde, woulde commend 
it. And whan hee had sitte musing a while, devysing, as I thought 
after, uppon some pretty proper waye to bring it in withal, at the 
laste, for lacke of a better, lest he should have letted the matter 
too long, he brought it even blontly forth, and asked us al that 
satte at his hordes end (for at his owne messe in the middes there 
sat but himself alone) howe well we lyked his oracyon that he 
hadde made that daye. But in fayth Uncle, whan that probleme 
was once proponed, till it was full answered, no manne (I wencj 
cate one morsell of meatc more. Every manne was fallen in so 
depe a studye, for the fyndynge of some exquisite prayse. For 
he that shoulde have brought oute but a vulgare and a common 

c; '2 



84 THE LIFE OF 

nounce the same, that he was able with the 
same to persuade and allure all men to his pur- 



commendacion, woulde have though te himself shamed for ever. 
Than sayde we our sentences by rowe as wee sat, from the lowest 
unto the hyghest in good order, as it had bene a great matter of 
the comon weale^ in a right solemne counsayle. Whan it came 
to my parte, I wyll not saye it. Uncle, for no boaste, mee 
thoughte, by oure Ladye, for my parte, I quytte my selfe metelye 
wel. And I lyked my selfe the better beecause mee thoughte ray 
wordes beeinge but a straungyer, wente yet with some grace in the 
Almain tong wherein lettyng my latin alone me listed to shewe 
my cunnyng, and I hoped to be lyked the better, because I sawe 
that he that sate next mee, and should saie his sentence after mee, 
was an unlearned Prieste, for he could speake no latin at all. 
But whan he came furth for hys part with my Lordes commenda- 
tion, the wyly Fox, hadde be so well accustomed in courte with the 
crafte of flattry thai he wente beyonde me to farre. 

And that might I see by hym, what excellence a right meane 
witte may come to in one crafte, that in al his whole life studyeth 
and busyeth his witte about no mo but that one. But I made 
after a solempne vowe unto my selfe, that if ever he and 1 were 
matched together at that boarde agayne : when we should fall to 
our flattrye, I would flatter in latin, that he should not contende 
with me no more. For though I could be contente to be out 
runne by an horse, yet would I no more abyde it to be out runne 
of an asse. But Uncle, here beganne nowe the game, he that 
sate hygheste, and was to speake, was a great beneficed man, and 
not a Doctour onely, but also somewhat learned in dede in the 
lawes of the Churche. A worlde it was to see howe he marked 
every mannes worde that spake before him. And it semed that 
every worde the more proper it was, the worse he liked it, for the 
cum bran ce that he had to study out a better to passe it. The 
manne even swette with the laboure, so that he was faine in the 
while now and than to wipe his face. Howbeit in conclusion whan 
it came to his course, we that had spoken before him, hadde so 
taken up al among us before, that we hadde not lefte hym one 
wye worde to speake after. 

Anthony. Alas good manne ! amonge so manye of you, some 
good felow shold have lente hym one. Vincent. It needed not 



CARDINAL AVOLSEY. 85 

pose. Proceeding thus in fortune's blissful- 
ness, it chanced the wars between tlie realms 
of England and France to be open, but upon 
what occasion I know not, in so much as the 
king, being fully persuaded, and resolved in 
his most royal person to invade his foreign 
enemies with a piussant army, to delay their 
hault^ brags, within their own territory : where- 
fore it was thought very necessary, that this 
royal enterprise should be speedily provided 

as happe was Uncle. For he found out such a shift, that in hys 
flatteryng he passed us all the raayny. Anthony. Why, what 
sayde he Cosyn ? Vyncent. By our Ladye Uncle not one worde. 
But lyke as 1 trow Plinius telleth, that whan Appelles the Paynter 
in the table that he paynted of the sacryfyce and the death of 
Iphigenia, hadde in the makynge of the sorowefuU countenances 
of the other noble menne of Greece that beehelde it, spente oute so 
much of his craft and hys cuunynge, that whan he came to make 
the countenance of King Agamemnon her father, whiche hee reserved 

for the laste, he could devise no maner of newe heavy chere 

and countenance— but to the intent that no man should see what 
maner countenance it was, that her father hadde, the paynter was 
fayne to paynte hym, holdyng his face in his handkercher. The 
like pageant in a maner plaide us there this good aunciente ho- 
nourable flatterer. For whan he sawe that he coulde fynde no 
woordes of praysc, that woulde passe al that hadde bene spoken 
before all readye, the wyly Fox woulde spcake never a word, but 
as he that were ravished unto heavenwardc with the wonder of the 
wisdom and eloquence that my Lordes Grace hadde uttered in that 
oracyon, he fettc a long syghe with an Oh! from the bottome of hys 
breste, and helde uppe bothc hys handcs, and lyfte uppe bothe his 
handes and lift uppe his head, and caste up his cycn into the welkin 
and wepte. Anthony. Forsooth Cosyn, he plaide his parte verye 
properlye. But was that grcatc Prelates oracion Cosyn, any thyng 
prayscworthye ?" Sir Thomas More'x Works, \f. 1221, 1222. 
^ /. c. haughty. 



86 THE LIFE OF 

and plentifully furnished in every degree of 
things apt and convenient for the same ; the 
expedition whereof, the king's highness thought 
no man's wit so meet, for policy and painful tra- 
vail, as his wellbeloved almoner's was, to whom 
therefore he committed his whole affiance and 
trust therein. And he being nothing scrupulous 
in any thing, that the king would command him 
to do, although it seemed to other very difficile, 
took upon him the whole charge and burden of 
all this business, and proceeded so therein, that 
he brought all things to a good pass and purpose 
in a right decent order, as of all manner of vic- 
tuals, provisions, and other necessaries, conve- 
nient for so noble a voyage and puissant army. 

All things being by him perfected, and fur- 
nished, the king, not minding to delay or neglect 
the time appointed, but with noble and valiant 
courage advanced to his royal enterprise, passed 
the seas between Dover and Calais, where he 
prosperously arrived ^ ; and after some abode 
there of his Grace, as well for the arrival of his 
puissant army royal, provisions and munitions, 
as to consult about his princely affairs, marched 
forward, in good order of battle, through the 
Low Country, until he came to the strong 
town of Terouanne. To the which he laid his 

'^ June 1513. 



CARDINAL WOLSEY. 87 

assault, and assailed it so fiercely with continual 
assaults, that within short space he caused them 
within to yield the town. Unto which place the 
Emperor Maximilian repaired unto the king our 
sovereign Lord, with a puissant army, like a 
mighty and friendly prince, taking of the king 
his Grace's wages ^, as well for his own person 
as for his retinue, the which is a rare thing sel- 
dom seen, heard, or read, that an emperor 
should take wages, and fight under a king's 
banner. Thus after the king had obtained the 
possession of this puissant fort, and set all 
things in due order, for the defence and pre- 
servation of the same to his highness' use, he 
departed from thence, and marched toward the 
city of Tournay, and there again laid his siege ; 
to the which he gave so fierce and sharp as- 
saults, that they within were constrained of fine 
force 7 to yield up the town unto his victorious 
majesty. At which time he gave the Almoner 
the bishoprick of the same See, for some part 
of recompense of his pains sustained in that jour- 



^ 100 crowns a day. 

' " Heaven and happiness eternal is to ^>)T6/«fv'v, tliat which is 
joined in issue, to which we are intituled, for which we plead, to 
which we have right ; from whence hy injury and treachery we 
have been ejected, and from whence hij fine force we are kept out : 
for this we do clamarc, by the Clergy, our Counsel, in the view of 
God and Angels." Montui^iie's Diatribe iijiua ScIJcn's Iliatorji of 
Tithes, p. 130. W. 



88 THE LIFE OF 

ney. And when the King had established all 
things there agreeable to his princely pleasure, 
and furnished the same with noble valiant cap- 
tains and men of war, for the safeguard of the 
town against his enemies, he returned again into 
England, taking with him divers worthy persons 
of the peers of France, as the Duke of Lon- 
gueville, and Countie Clermont, and divers 
other taken there in a skirmish most victo- 
riously. After whose return immediately, the 
See of Lincoln fell void by the death of Doctor 
Smith, late bishop of that dignity, the which 
benefice and promotion his Grace gave unto his 
Almoner ^, Bishop elect of Tournay, who was 
not negligent to take possession thereof, and 
made all the speed he could for his consecration : 
the solemnization whereof ended, he found the 
means to get the possession of all his prede- 
cessor's goods into his hands, whereof I have 
seen divers times some part thereof furnish his 
house. It was not long after that Doctor Bam- 
bridge^. Archbishop of York, died at Kome, 
being there the king's ambassador unto the 
Pope Julius ; unto which benefice the king pre- 



8 He was consecrated bishop of Lincoln, March 26, A. D. 1514. 
Le Neve's Fasti, p. 141. W. 

9 Bambridge was poisoned (according to Stow) by Rinaldo da 
Modena, his chaplain, who was incited to the act by revenge, 
having suffered the indignity of a blow from the archbishop. 



CARDINAL WOLSEY. 89 

sented his new Bishop of Lincoln ; so that he 
had three bishopricks ^ in one year given him. 
Then prepared he again of new as fast for liis 
translation from the See of Lincoln, unto the See 
of York. After which solemnization done, and 
he being in possession of the Archbishoprick 
of York, and Primas Angiice, thought himself 
sufficient to compare with Canterbury ; and 



» Dr. Robert Barnes preached a Sermon on the 24th of Decem- 
ber, 1525, at St. Edward's Church in Cambridge, from which Ser- 
mon certain Articles were drawn out upon which he was soon 
after called to make answer before the Cardinal. Barnes has 
left behind him a description of this examination. The sixth of 
these Articles was as follows. " I wyU never beleeve that one 
man may be, by the lawe of God, a Byshop of two or three 
cities, yea of an whole countrey, for it is contrarye to St. Paule, 
which sayth, / Aai'e; left thee behynde, to set in every citye a byshop." 

" I was brought afore my Lorde Cardinall into his Galary, 
(continues Dr. Barnes), and there hee reade all myne articles, 
tyll hee came to this, and there he stopped, and sayd, that this 
touched hym, and therefore hee asked me, if I thought it Avronge, 
that one byshop shoulde have so many cityes underneath hym ; 
unto whom I answered, that I could no farther go, than St. 
Paules texte, whych set in every cytye a byshop. Then asked 
hee mee, if I thought it now unright (seeing the ordinaunce of the 
Church) that one byshop should have so many cities. I aunswercd 
that I knew none onlinaunce of the Church, as concerning this 
thinge, but St. Pauks sayinge onelye. Nevertheles I did see a 
contrarye custom and practise in the world, but I know not the 
originall thereof. Then sayde hee, that in the Apostles tyme, 
there were dyvers cities, some seven myle, some six myle long, 
and over them was there set but one byshop, and of their suburbs 
also : so likewise now, a byshop hath but one citye to his cathe- 
drall churchc, and the country about is as suburbs unto it. Mc 
thought this was farre fetched, but I durst not dcnyc it." Barnes's 
Works, p. 210. A. D. 1573, W. 



90 THE LIFE OF 

thereupon erected his cross in the court, and in 
every other place, as well in the presence of the 
Archbishop of Canterbury, and in the precinct 
of his jurisdiction as elsewhere. And forasmuch 
as Canterbury claimeth superiority and obedience 
of York, as he doth of all other bishops within 
this realm, forasmuch as he is primcis totius An- 
glice^ and therefore claimeth, as a token of an 
ancient obedience, of York to abate the ad- 
vancing of his cross, in the presence of the cross 
of Canterbury ; notwithstanding York, nothing 
minding to desist from bearing of his cross in 
manner as is said before, caused his cross to be 
advanced^ and borne before him, as well in the 
presence of Canterbury as elsewhere. Where- 
fore Canterbury being moved therewith, gave 
York a certain check for his presumption ; by 
reason whereof there engendered some grudge 
between Canterbury and York. And York per- 
ceiving the obedience that Canterbury claimed 
to have of York, intended to provide some such 
means that he would rather be superior in dig- 



" This was not the first time in which this point of precedency 
had been contested. Edward III, in the sixth year of his reign, 
at a time when a similar debate was in agitation, having sum- 
moned a Parliament at York, the Archbishop of Canterbury, and 
all the other Prelates of his Province, declined giving their at- 
tendance, that the Metropolitan of all England might not be 
obliged to submit his Cross to that of York, in the Province of 
the latter. Fox, p. 387, 388. W. 



CARDINAL WOLSEY. 91 

nity to Canterbury than to be either obedient 
or equal to liim. YVlierefore he obtained first 
to be made Priest Cardinal, and Legatus de 
latere; unto whom the Pope sent a CarcUnal's 
hat, with certain bulls for his authority in that 
behalf 3. Yet by the way of communication ye 
shall understand that the Pope sent him this hat 
as a worthy jewel of his honour, dignity, and au- 
thority, the which was conveyed hither in a var- 
let's budget, who seemed to all men to be but a 
person of small estimation. Whereof York being 
advertised, of the baseness of the messenger, 
and of the people's opinion and rumour, thought 
it for his honour meet, that so high a jewel 
should not be conveyed by so simple a messen- 
ger ; wherefore he caused him to be stayed 
by the way, immediately after his arrival in 
England, where he was newly furnished in all 
manner of apparel, with all kind of costly silks, 
which seemed decent for such an high ambassa- 



' Wolsey, in his endeavours to obtain the purple pall, had relied 
much on the assistance of Adrian, Bishop of Bath, himself a car- 
dinal, then the Pope's colic ctor in England, but residing at Rome, 
and acting by Polydore Vergil, his deputy. Adrian being either 
unable or unwilling to render the expected service, Wolsey, con- 
ceiving that he had been betrayed, seized upon the deputy collector, 
Polydore, and committed him to the Tower, where he remained, 
notwithstanding repeated remonstrances from the court of Rome, 
until the elevation of Wolsey to the cardinalate procured his liberty. 
This will account for the unfavourable light in which AVolscy is 
placed in Polydore Vergil's History. 



92 THE LIFE OF 

dor. And that done, he was encountered upon 
Blackheath, and there received with a great 
assembly of prelates, and lusty gallant gentle- 
men, and from thence conducted and conveyed 
through London, with great triumph. Then was 
great and speedy provision ^ and preparation 
made in Westminster Abbey for the confirma- 
tion of his high dignity ; the which was executed 
by all the bishops and abbots nigh or about 
London, in rich mitres and copes, and other 
costly ornaments ; which was done in so solemn 
a wise as I have not seen the like unless it had 
been at the coronation of a mighty prince or 
king. 

Obtaining this dignity [he] thought himself 
meet to encounter with Canterbury in his high 
jurisdiction before expressed ; and that also he 
was as meet to bear authority among the tem- 
poral powers, as among the spiritual jurisdic- 
tions. Wherefore remembering as well the 
taunts and checks before sustained of Canter- 



* " Not farre unlike to this was the receaving of the Cardinals 
hatte. Which when a ruffian had brought unto him to Westmin- 
ster under his cloke, he clothed the messenger in rich aray^ and 
sent him backe to Dover againe, and appoynted the Bishop of 
Canterbury to meet him^ and then another company of Lordes 
and Gentles I wotte not how oft, ere it came to Westminster, 
where it was set on a cupborde and tapers about, so that the 
greatest Duke in the lande must make curtesie thereto : yea and to 
his empty seat he being away." Tindal's Works, p, 374. Fox's 
Ads, p. 902. W. 



CARDINAL WOLSEY. 93 

bury, which he intended to redress, liaving a 
respect to the advancement of worldly honour, 
promotion, and great benefits, [he] found the 
means with the king, that he was made Chan- 
cellor of England ; and Canterbury thereof dis- 
missed, who had continued in that honourable 
room and office, since long before the death of 
King Henry the Seventh ^. 

Now he being in possession of the chancel- 
lorship, endowed with the promotion of an Arch- 
bishop, and Cardinal Legate de latere, thought 
himself fully furnished with such authorities and 



s Dr. Fidtles and Mr. Grove remark, that this is a prejudiced 
statement of the case, and that Cavendish was misled by false in- 
formation. It does not indeed appear that Wolsey used any 
indirect means to supersede Archbishop Warham, and the follow- 
ing passages in the correspondence of Sir Thomas More with 
Ammonius seem to prove the contrary. Sir Thomas says : " The 
Archbishop of Canterbury hath at length resigned the office of 
Chancellor, which burthen, as you know, he had strenuouxli/ 
endeavoured to fai/ down for some years ; and the long wished for 
retreat being now obtained, he enjoys a most pleasant recess in his 
studies, with the agreeable reflection of having acquitted himself 
honourably in that high station. The Cardinal of York, b;/ the 
Kin/r's Orders, succeeds him ; who discharges the duty of the post 
so conspicuously as to surpass the hopes of all, notwithstanding the 
great opinion they had of his other eminent qualities : and what 
was most rare, to give so much content and satisfaction after so 
excellent a predecessor." 

Ammonius, writing to Erasmus, says : " Your Archbi.shop, 
with the King's good leave, has laid down his post, which that of 
York, affer much importunili/, has accepted of, and behaves most 
beautifully." 



94 THE LIFE OF 

dignities, that he was able to surmount Canter- 
bury in all ecclesiastical jurisdictions, having 
power to convocate Canterbury, and other 
bishops, within his precincts, to assemble at his 
convocation, in any place within this realm 
where he would assign ; taking upon him the 
correction of all matters in every diocese, having 
there through all the realm all manner of spi- 
ritual ministers, as commissaries, scribes, appa- 
ritors, and all other officers to furnish his courts ; 
visited also all spiritual houses, and presented 
by prevention whom he listed to their benefices. 
And to the advancing of his Legatine honours 
and jurisdictions, he had masters of his facul- 
ties, masters Ceremoniarum, and such other like 
officers to the glorifying of his dignity. Then 
had he two great crosses of silver, whereof one of 
them v*^as for his Archbishoprick, and the other 
for his Legacy, borne always before him whither 
soever he went or rode, by two of the most tallest 
and comeliest priests that he could get within 
all this realm 6. And to the increase of his gains 

6 This is noticed by the satirist Roy, in his invective against 
Wolsey : 

Before hira rydeth two prestes stronge. 
And they beare two crosses right longe, 

Gapinge in every man's face : 
After them follow two lay-men secular. 
And each of them holdinge a pillar 

In their hondes, insteade of a mace. 



CARDINAL WOLSEY. 95 

he had also the bishoprick of Durliam, and the 
Abbey of St. Albans in commendam ; liowbeit 
after, when Bishop Fox, of Winchester, died, 
he surrendered Durham into the King's hands, 
and in lieu thereof took the Bishoprick of 
Winchester. Then he held also, as it were in 
Jerme, Bath, Worcester, and Hereford, because 
the incumbents thereof were strangers 7, born out 
of this realm, continuing always beyond the 
seas, in their own native countries, or else at 
Rome, from whence they were sent by the Pope 
in legation into England to the king. And for 
their reward, at their departure, the prudent 
King Henry the Seventh thought it better to 
reward them with that thing, he himself could 
not keep, than to defray or disburse any thing 
of his treasure. And then they being but 
strangers, thought it more meet for their as- 
surance, and to have their jurisdictions conserved 

Then foUoweth my lord on his mule 
Trapped with gold, &c. 

Dr. Wordsworth, misled by Anstis, has erroneously attributed 
this satire to Skelton, confounding it probably with that writer's 

" Why come ye not to court." 

See note at the end of the Life. 

7 Even so early as the reign of Henry III, the annual amount 
of the benefices in the hands of Italians, in this kingdom, was 
70,000 marks ; more than three times the value of the whole 
revenue of the crown. M. Paris, in Fit, Hen. III. Ann. 1252. 

Wordsworth' 



96 THE LIFE OF 

and justly used, to permit the Cardinal to have 
their benefices for a convenient yearly sum of 
ihoney to be paid them by exchanges in their 
countries, than to be troubled, or burdened with 
the conveyance thereof unto them : so that all 
their spiritual promotions and jurisdictions of 
their bishopricks were clearly in his domain and 
disposition, to prefer or promote whom he listed 
unto them. He had also a great number daily 
attending upon him, both of noblemen and wor- 
thy gentlemen, of great estimation and posses- 
sions, with no small number of the tallest yeomen, 
that he could get in all this realm, in so much 
that well was that nobleman and gentleman, that 
might prefer any tall and comely yeoman unto 
his service. 

Now to speak of the order of his house and 
officers, I think it necessary here to be remem- 
bered. First ye shall understand, that he had 
in his hall, daily, three especial tables furnished 
with three principal officers ; that is to say, a 
Steward, which was always a dean or a priest ; 
a Treasurer, a knight ; and a Comptroller, an 
esquire ; which bare always within his house 
their white staves. Then had he a coffierer, 
three marshals, two yeomen ushers, two grooms, 
and an almoner. He had in the hall-kitchen 
two clerks of his kitchen, a clerk comptroller, a 
surveyor of the dresser, a clerk of his spicery. 



CARDINAL WOLSEY. 9? 

Also there in his hall-kitchen he had two master 
cooks, and twelve other labourers, and childi'en 
as they called them ; a yeoman of his scullery, 
and two otiier in his silver scidlery ; two yeomen 
of his pastry, and two grooms 8. 

Now in his privy kitchen he had a Master 
Cook who went daily in damask satin, or velvet, 
with a chain of gold about his neck ; and two 
grooms, with six labourers and children to serve 
in that place ; in the Larder there, a yeoman 
and a groom ; in the Scalding-house, a yeoman 
and two grooms ; in the Scullery there, two 
persons ; in the Buttery, two yeomen and two 
grooms, with two other pages ; in the Pantry, 
two yeomen, two grooms, and two other pages ; 
and in the Ewery likewise : in the Cellar, three 
yeomen, two grooms, and two pages ; beside a 
gentleman for the month : in the Chaundery, 
three persons : in the Wafery, two ; in the 
Wardrobe of beds, the master of the wardrobe, 
and ten other persons ; in the Laundry, a yeo- 
man, a groom, and three pages : of purveyors, 
two, and one groom ; in the Bakehouse, a 
yeoman and two grooms ; in the Wood-yard, a 
yeoman and a groom ; in the Garner, one ; in 
the Garden, a yeoman and two labourers. Now 
at the gate, he had of porters, two tall yeomen 

" These arc termed maley^ pasleh-rs, in the more recent MSS. 

H 



98 THE LIFE OF 

and two grooms ; a yeoman of his barge : in the 
stable, he had a master of his horse, a clerk of 
the stable, a yeoman of the same ; a Saddler, a 
Farrier, a yeoman of his Chariot, a Sumpter-man, 
a yeoman of his stirrup ; a Muleteer ; sixteen 
grooms of his stable, every of them keeping four 
great geldings : in the Almeserie, a yeoman and 
a groom. 

Now I will declare unto you the officers of 
his chapel, and singing men of the same. First, 
he had there a Dean, who was always a great 
clerk and a divine ; a Sub-dean ; a Repeater of 
the quire ; a Gospeller 9, a Pisteller ; and twelve 
singing Priests : of Scholars, he had first, a Mas- 
ter of the children ; twelve singing children ; six- 
teen singing men ; with a servant to attend upon 
the said children. In the Revestry i, a yeoman 
and two grooms : then were there divers retainers 
of cunning singing men, that came thither at 
divers sundry principal feasts. But to speak 
of the furniture of his chapel passeth my capa- 
city to declare the number of the costly orna- 
ments and rich jewels, that were occupied in 
the same continually. For I have seen there, 



' The Gospeller was the priest who read the Gospel. The Pis- 
teller, the clerk who read the Epistle. 

' Revesfn/, from the French Revestir ; contractedly written 
Vesiry. 



CARDINAL WOLSEY. 99 

in a procession, worn forty-tour copes of one 
suit, v^ery rich, besides the sumptuous crosses, 
candlesticks, and other necessary ornaments to 
the comely furniture of the same. Now shall ye 
understand that he had two cross bearers, and 
two pillar bearers : and in his chamber, all these 
persons ; that is to say : his high Chamber- 
lain, his Vice Chamberlain ; twelve Gentlemen 
ushers, daily waiters ; besides two in his privy 
chamber ; and of Gentlemen waiters in his privy 
chamber he had six ; and also he had of Lords 
nine or ten -, who had each of them allowed two 
servants ; and the Earl of Derby had allowed 
five men. Then had he of Gentlemen, as cup- 
bearers, carvers, sewers, and Gentlemen daily 
waiters, forty persons ; of yeomen ushers he had 
six ; of grooms in his chamber he had eight ; 
of yeomen of his chamber he had forty-six 
daily to attend upon his person ; he had also a 
priest there which was his Almoner, to attend 
upon his table at dinner. Of doctors and chap- 
lains attending in his closet to say daily mass 
before him, he had sixteen persons : and a clerk 
of his closet. Also he had two secretaries, and 



2 Those Lords that were placed in the great and privy chambers 
were Wards, and as such paid for their board and education. It 
will be seen below that he had a particular officer called " In- 
structor of his Wards." Grove. 

n 2 



100 THE LIFE OF 

two clerks of his signet ; and four counsellors' 
learned in the laws of the realm. 

And for as much as he was Chancellor of 
England, it was necessary for him to have divers 
officers of the Chancery to attend daily upon 
him, for the better furniture of the same. That 
is to say : first, he had the Clerk of the Crown, 
a Riding Clerk, a Clerk of the Hanaper, a Chafer 
of Wax. Then had he a Clerk of the Check, as 
well to check his Chaplains, as his Yeomen of the 
Chamber ; he had also four Footmen, which were 
apparelled in rich running coats, whensoever he 
rode any journey. Then had he an herald at 
Arms, and a Sergeant at Arms ; a Physician ; 
an Apothecary ; four Minstrels ; a Keeper of 
his Tents, an Armourer j an Instructor of his 
Wards ; two Yeomen in his Wardrobe ; and a 
Keeper of his Chamber in the court. He had 
also daily in his house the Surveyor of York, a 
Clerk of the Green Cloth ; and an Auditor. All 
this number of persons were daily attendant 
upon him in his house, down-lying and up-rising. 
And at meals, there was continually in his 
cliamber a board kept for his Chamberlains, and 
Gentlemen Ushers, having with them a mess 
of the young Lords 3, and another for gentlemen. 



3 Among whom, as we shall see below, was the eldest son of 
the Eavl of Northumberland. This was according to a practice 



CARDINAL WOLSEY. 10 1 

Besides all these, there was never an officer and 
gentleman, or any other worthy person in his 
house, but he was allowed some three, some 
two servants ; and all other one at the least ; 
wliich amounted to a great number of persons. 
Now have I showed you the order of his liouse, 



much more ancient than the time of Wolsey ; agreeably to wliich, 
young men of the most exalted rank resided in the families of 
distinguished ecclesiastics, under the denomination of pages, but 
more probably for the purposes of education than of service. In 
this way Sir Thomas More was brought up under Cardinal Morton, 
Archbishop of Canterbury ; of whom he has given a very inte- 
resting character in his Utopia. From Fiddes's Appendix to the 
Life of Wolsey, p. 19, it appears that the custom was at least as 
old as the time of Grosthed, Bishop of Lincoln, in the reign of 
Henry III, and that it continued for some time during the seven- 
teenth century. In a paper, written by the Earl of Arundel, in the 
year 1620, and intitled Instructions for you my son William, how 
to behave yourself at Norwich, the earl charges him, " You shall 
in all things reverence, honour, and obey my Lord Bishop of 
Norwich, as you would do any of your parents : esteeminge what- 
soever he shall tell or command you, as if your grandmother of 
Arundel], your mother, or myself should say it : and in all things 
esteem yourself as my lord's page; a breeding, which youths 
of my house, far superior to you, were accustomed unto ; as 
ray grandfather of Norfolk, and his brother, my good uncle of 
Northampton, were both bredd as pages with bishopps." Sec also 
Paul's Life of Archbishop Whifgift, p. 97. 

It is not out of place to mention, what we are told l)y Sir George 
VVheler in his Proteslan/ Monastery, p. 158. A. D. I(i98. " I 
have heard say, in the times no longer ago than King Charles I, 
that many noblemen's and gentlemen's houses in the country 
were like academies, where the gentlemen and women of lesser 
fortunes came for education with those of the family ; among 
which number was the famous Sir Beaville Ciranville and his 
lady, father and mother of our present lord of Bath." W. 



10^ THE LIFE OF 

and what officers and servants he had, according 
to his checker roll, attending daily upon him ; 
besides his retainers, and other persons being 
suitors, that most commonly were fed in his hall. 
And whensoever we shall see any more such 
subjects within this realm, that shall maintain 
any such estate and household, I am content he 
be advanced above him in honour and estima- 
tion. Therefore here I make an end of his 
household ; whereof the number was about the 
sum of live hundred ^ persons according to his 
checker roll. 

You have heard of the order and officers of 
his house ; now I do intend to proceed forth 
unto other of his proceedings ; for, after he was 
thus furnished, in manner as I have before re- 
hearsed unto you, he was twice sent in embassy 
unto the Emperor Charles the Fifth, that now 
reigneth ; and father unto King Philip, now our 
sovereign lord. Forasmuch as the old Emperor 
Maximilian was dead, and for divers urgent 
causes touching the king's majesty, it was 
thought good that in so weighty a matter, and 
to so noble a prince, that the Cardinal was most 



■* Dr. Wordsworth's edition says oiie hundred and eighty. The 
manuscripts differ in stating the numbers, the edition of 1641 has 
eight hundred persons. And, in consequence, Wolsey has been so 
far misrepresented, by some writers, as to have it asstited that he 
kept eight hundred servants ! 



CARDINAL WOLSEY. lOS 

meet to be sent on so worthy an embassy. 
Wherefore he being ready to take upon liim the 
charge thereof, was furnished in all degrees and 
purposes most likest a great prince, which was 
much to the high honour of the king's majesty, 
and of this reahn. For first in his proceeding 
he was furnished like a cardinal of high esti- 
mation, having all things thereto correspondent 
and agreeable. His gentlemen, being in num- 
ber very many, clothed in livery coats of crimson 
velvet of the most purest colour that might be 
invented, with chains of gold about their necks ; 
and all his yeomen and other mean officers were 
in coats of line scarlet, guarded with black velvet 
a hand broad. He being thus furnished in this 
manner, was twice sent unto the emperor into 
Flanders, the emperor lying then hi Bruges ; 
who entertained our ambassador very highly **, 
discharging him and all his train of their charge ; 
for there was no house within all Bruges, wherein 
any gentlemen of the Lord Ambassador's lay, or 
had recourse, but that the owners of the houses 
were commanded by the emperor's officers, that 
tliey, upon pain of their Hves, should take no 



^ At Bruges, " he was received with great solemnity, as be- 
longeth unto so mighty a pillar of Christes church, and was sa- 
luted at the entring into the towne of a merry fellow which sayd, 
Salve rev rcgii tut, at(ji/e j-cfrni .sui, Haylc both king of thy king, 
and also of his rcalmc." Tuulal's Works, p. 370, A. D. 137'^. 



104 THE LIFE OF 

money for any thing that the cardinaPs servants 
should take or dispend in victuals ; no, although 
they were disposed to make any costly banquets : 
furthermore commanding their said hosts, to see 
that they lacked no such thing as they desired 
or required to have for their pleasures. Also 
the emperor's officers every night went through 
the town, from house to house, where as any 
English men lay or resorted, and there served 
their liveries^ for all night; which was done 
after this manner : first, the emperor's officers 
brought in to the house a cast of fine manchet 
bread ^, two great silver pots, with wine, and a 
pound of fine sugar ; white lights and yellow ; a 
bowl or goblet of silver, to drink in ; and every 
night a staff torch. This was the order of their 
liveries every night. And then in the morning, 
when the officers came to fetch away their stuff, 
then would they accompt with the host for the 
gentlemen's costs spent in that night and day 
before. Thus the emperor entertained the car- 
dinal and all his train, for the time of his embassy 
there. And that done, he returned home again 
into England, with great triumph, being no less 
in estimation with the king than he was before, 
but rather much more. 



'^ Liucrics, are things 'Uuered, i. e. delivered out. 

7 Bread of the finest flour. A cast is a share or allotment. 



CARDINAL WOLSEY. 105 

Now will I declare unto you his order in going 
to Westminster Hall, daily in the term season. 
First, before his coming out of his privy cham- 
ber, he heard most commonly every day two 
masses in his privy closet ; and there then said 
his daily service with his chaplain : and as I 
Iieard his chaplain say, being a man of credence 
and of excellent learning, that the cardinal, 
what business or weighty matters soever he had 
in the day, he never went to his bed with any 
part of his divine service unsaid, yea not so 
much as one collect ; wherein I doubt not but 
he deceived the opinion of divers persons. And 
after mass he would return in his privy chamber 
again, and being advertised of the furniture of 
his chambers without, with noblemen, gentle- 
men, and other persons, would issue out into 
them, appareled all in red, in the habit of a car- 
dinal ; which was either of fine scarlet, or else of 
crimson satin, taifety, damask, or caffa, the best 
that he could get for money : and upon his head 
a round pillion, with a noble of black velvet set 
to the same in the inner side ; he had also a 
tippet of fine sables about his neck ; holding in 
his hand a very fair orange, whereof the meat 
or substance within was taken out, and filled 
up again with the part of a sponge, wherein 
was vinegar, and other confections against the 
pestilent airs ; the which he most commonly 



106 



THE LIFE OF 



smelt unto, passing among the press, or else 
when he was pestered with many suitors. There 
was also borne before him first, the gi-eat seal 
of England, and then his cardinal's hat, by a 
nobleman^ or some worthy gentleman, right so- 
lemnly, bareheaded. And as soon as he was en- 
tered into his chamber of presence, where there 
was attending his coming to await upon him to 
Westminster Hall, as well noblemen and other 
worthy gentlemen, as noblemen and gentlemen 
of his own family ; thus passing forth with two 
great crosses of silver borne before him 8; with 
also two great pillars of silver, and his pursuivant 
at arms with a great mace of silver gilt. Then 
his gentlemen ushers cried, and said : " On, my 
lords and masters, on before ; make way for 
my Lord's Grace !" Thus passed he down from 
his chamber through the hall ; and when he came 
to the hall door, there was attendant for him 
his mule, trapped all together in crimson velvet, 
and gilt stirrups. When he was mounted, with 

^ So our author, in his poetical legend, dwells upon this regal 
pomp of his master ; 

* My crossis twayne of silver long and greate. 

That dayly before me were carried hyghe. 

Upon great horses opynly in the streett ; 

And raassie pillers gloryouse to the eye. 

With pollaxes gylt that no man durst come nyghe 

My presence, I was so pryncely to behold ; 

Ridyng on my mule trapped in silver and in golde.' 

See Appendix. 



CARDINAL WOLSEY. 107 

his cross bearers, and pillar bearers », also upon 
great horses trapped with [fine] scarlet. Then 
marched he forward, with his train and furnitm'e 
in manner as I have declared, having about him 
four footmen, with gilt pollaxes in their Iiands ; 
and thus he went until he came to Westminster 
Hall door. And there alighted, and went after this 
manner, up through the hall into the chancery ; 
howbeit he would most commonly stay awhile at 
a bar, made for him, a little beneath the chan- 
cery [on the right hand], and there commune 
some time with the judges, and sometime with 
other persons. And that done he would repair 
into the chancery, sitting there till eleven of the 
clock, hearing suitors, and determining of divers 
matters. And from thence, he would divers 
times go into the star chamber, as occasion did 
serve ; where he spared neither high nor low, 
but judged every estate according to their merits 
and deserts. 

He used every Sunday to repair to the court, 
being tlien for the most part at GreeuAvich, in 



9 The pillar, as well as the cross, was emblematical, and de- 
signed to imply, that the dignitary before whom it was carried 
was a pillar of the church. Dr. Barnes, who Jiad good reason 
why these pillars should be uppermost in his thoughts, glances at 
this emblem, in the case of the cardinal, in the following words ; 
" and yet it must bee true, because a pillar of titv r/u/rr/i hath 
spoken it." Banie.s' Works, \y,'2\0. A. D. 1672, Sec also 7V/»/rt/'.v 
Work.s, p. 370. W. 



108 THE LIFE OF 

the term ; with all his former order, taking his 
barge at his privy stairs, furnished with tall 
yeomen standing upon the bayles, and all gen- 
tlemen being within with him ; and landed again 
at the Crane in the vintry. And from thence he 
rode upon his mule, with his crosses, his pillars, 
his hat, and the great seal, through Thames 
Street, until he came to Billingsgate, or there- 
about ; and there took his barge again, and 
rowed to Greenwich, where he was nobly re- 
ceived of the lords and chief officers of the 
king's house, as the treasurer and comptroller, 
with others ; and so conveyed to the king's 
chamber : his crosses commonly standing for the 
time of his abode in the court, on the one side 
of the king's cloth of estate. He being thus in 
the court, it was wonderly furnished with noble- 
men and gentlemen, much otherwise than it was 
before his coming. And after dinner, among 
the lords, having some consultation with the 
king, or with the council, he would depart home- 
ward with like state ^ : and this order he used 
continually, as opportunity did serve. 



' It was made One of the Articles of Impeachment against him : 
" That by his outrageous Pride he had greatly shadowed a long 
season his Grace's Honour." Art. XLIV. Sir Thomas More, 
when Speaker of the House of Commons, noticing a complaint 
which had been made by the cardinal, that nothing could be said 
or done in that houuc, but it was presently spread abroad, and be- 
came the talk of every tavern or alehouse, " Masters, (says he) 



CARDINAL WOLSEY. 109 

Thus in gi'eat honour, triumph, and glory, he 
-eigned a long season, ruling all things within 



forasmuclie as my lord cardihall latelie laiecl to our charges the 
lightnes of our tongues for things uttered out of this house^ it 
shall not in my minde be amisse to receive him with all his pompe^ 
with his maces, his pillers, poUaxcs, his crosses, his hatt, and the 
greats seal too ; to thintent, that if he finde the like fault with us 
heereafter, wee male be the bolder from ourselves to iaie the 
blame on those that his grace bringeth hither with him." Roper a 
Life of Sir Thomas More, p. 21, edit. 1817. Sir Thomas also, in 
his Apology, written in the year 1533, reflects severely upon the 
change introduced among the clergy, through the cardinall's means, 
in the luxury and sumptuousness of their dress. Wo7-ks, p. 892. 
■ The pulpit likewise occasionally raised its voice against him. 
Doctor Barnes, who was burnt in Smithfield in the year 154.1, 
preached at St. Edward's Church in Cambridge, a sermon, for 
which he was called to appear before the cardinal. This was a 
part of their dialogue, as it is related in Fox : " What Master 
Doctor (said the cardinall) had you not a sufficient scope in the 
Scriptures to teach the people, but that my golden shoes, my pol- 
laxes, my pillers, my golden cushions, my cross did so sore offend 
you, that you must make us ridicidum caput amongst the people '? 
We were jolily that day laughed to scorne. Verely it was a ser- 
mon more fitter to be preached on a stage than in a pulpit ; for at 
the last you said I weare a paire of redde gloves, I should say 
hloudie gloves (quoth you) that I should not be cold in the midst 
of my ceremonies. And Barnes answered, I spake nothing but 
the truth out of the Scriptures, according to my conscience, and 
according to the old doctors." Fox's Acts, p. 1088. W. 

The following curious passage from Doctor Barnes's ' Supplica- 
tion TO THE King,' printed by Myddelton, in 12mo, without date, 
is probably more correct than the exaggeration of the good old mar- 
tyrologist. It opens to us, as Dr. Wordsworth justly remarks, some 
part of the philosophy upon which the cardinal defended the fitness 
of that pomp and state which he maintained. 

" Thcie have Imcuhim pastolarcm to take shcpc with, but it is not 
like a shcpcherdes hooke, for it is intricate and manif olde crooked, 
and turncth always in, so that it may be called a mase, for it hath 
neither beginning nor ending, and it is more like to knockc swine 



110 THE LIFE OF 

this realm, appertaining unto the king, by his 
wisdom, and also all other weighty matters of 



and wolves in the head with, than to take shepe. Theie have also 
pillers and pollaxes, and other ceremonies, which no doubte be but 
trifels and thinges of nought. I praye you what is the cause that 
you calle your stafFe a shepeherdes stafFe ? You helpe no man 
with it? You comforte no man? — You lift up no man with it? 
But you have stryken downe kynges, and kyngedomes with it ; 
and knocked in the head Dukes and Earls with it. Call you this 
a sheepeherdes stafFe? There is a space in the shepeherdes stafFe 
for the foote to come oute againe, but youre stafFe turneth and 
windeth alwayes inwarde and never outewarde, signifieing that 
whatsoever he be that cometh within your daunger, that he shall 
neuer come oute againe. This exposition youre dedes do declare, 
let them be examined that you have had to do with ; and let us 
see howe they have escaped youre shepeherdes hooke. But these 
be the articles for the which I must nedes be an heretike, never the 
less all the worlde may see how shamefully, that I have erred 
agaynst your holinesse in saying the truth. My Lord Cardinall 
reasoned with me in this article, all the other he passed over, saving 
this and the sixth article. Here did he aske, " if I thought it good 
and reasonable) that he shulde lay downe his pillers and pollaxes and 
coyne them 1^ " Here is the heresye that is so abhomynable. / 
■made him answere, that Ithoughte it luelldone. " Than, (^saide he), 
howe thynke you, were it better for me (being in the honour and dig- 
nitie that I am,) to coyne my pillers and pollaxes and to give the 
money to five or sixe beggers ; than for to maintaine the commen 
welthe by them, as I do? Do you not recken [quod he) the commen 
welthe better thanfyve or sixe beggers ?" To this I did answere that 
I rekened it more to the honour of God and to the salvation of his 
soule and also to the comforte of his poore bretheren that they 
were coyned and given in almes, and as for the commenwelthe 
dyd not hange of them, (where be they nowe?) for as his grace 
knewe, the commenwelthe was afore his grace, and must be when 
his grace is gone, and the pillers and pollaxes came with him, and 
should also go away with him. Notwithstanding yf the commen- 
welth were in suche a condicion that it had nede of them, than 
might his grace so longe use them, or any other thinge in theyr 
stede, so long as the commenwelth neded them, Notwithstand- 



CARDINAL WOLSEY. Ill 

foreign regions, with wliich the king of this 
realm had any occasion to intermeddle. All 



ing I sayd, thus muche dyd I not say in my sermon agaynst them, 
but all onely I dampnecl in my sermon the gorgeous pompe and 
pride of all exterior ornamentes. Than he sayde, " Well — you 
say very well." But as well as it was said I am sure that these 
wordes made me an heretike, for if these wordes had not bene 
therein, mine adversaries durst never have shewed their faces 
against me. But now they knewe well that I could never be in- 
differently hearde. For if I had got the victorie than must all the 
Bishops and ray Lord Cardinal have laid downe all their gorgeous 
ornamentes, for the which they had rather burne xx such heretikes 
as I am, as all the worlde knoweth. But God is mighty, and of 
me hath he shewed his power, for I dare say they never intended 
thing more in their lives, than they did to destroy me, and yet 
God, of his infinite mercy, hath saved me, agaynst all their vio- 
lence: unto his Godly wisdome is the cause all onely knowne. 
The Byshop of London that was then, called Tunstal, after my 
departing out of prison, sayd unto a substancyal man, that I was 
not ded (for I dare say his conscience did not recken me such an 
heretike, that I wolde have killed myself, as the voyce wente, but 
yet wolde he have done it gladly of his chary te) but I was, saide he, 
in Amsterdam (where I had never been in my lyfe, as God knoweth, 
nor yet in the Countrey this ten yeares) and certaine men dyd there 
speake with me (said he) and he fained certaine wordes that they 
shulde say to me, and I to them, and added thereunto that the 
Lord Cardinal woulde have me againe or it shulde coste hyra a 
greate somme of money, howe moche I do not clerelye remember. 
I have marvayle that my Lorde is not ashamed, thus shamefully 
and thus lordly to lye, althoughe he might doo it by auctoritie. 
And where my Lord Cardinal and he wold spend so moche money 
to have me agayne, I have great marvayle of it. What can they 
make of me? (I am now here, what say you to me?) I am a 
symple poore wretche, and worthe no mans money in the worlde 
(saving theirs) not the tenth puny that they will give for me, and to 
burne me or to destroye me, cannot so greatly profyt them. Fo?- 
2vhen I am. dead, the snnne, and the mnaiie, the .itarres, and the cle- 
ment, tvater and fyre, ye and also stones shall defendc this cause 
apraivste them, rather than the verity shall perish." 



112 THE LIFE OF 

ambassadors of foreign potentates were always 
dispatched by his discretion, to whom they had 
always access for their dispatch. His house 
was also always resorted and furnished with 
noblemen, gentlemen, and other persons, with 
going and coming in and out, feasting and ban- 
queting all ambassadors diverse times, and other 
strangers right nobly. 

And when it pleased the king's majesty, for 
his recreation, to repair unto the cardinal's house, 
as he did divers times in the year, at which time 
there wanted no preparations, or goodly furni- 
ture, with viands of the finest sort that might be 
provided for money or friendship. Such plea- 
sures were then devised for the king's comfort 
and consolation, as might be invented, or by 
man's wit imagined. The banquets were set 
forth, with masks and mummeries, in so gorgeous 
a sort, and costly manner, that it was a heaven 
to behold. There wanted no dames, or damsels, 
meet or apt to dance v/ith the maskers, or to gar- 
nish the place for the time, with other goodly 
disports. Then was there all kind of music and 
harmony set forth, with excellent voices both of 
men and children. I have seen the king sud- 
denly come in thither in a mask, with a dozen 
of other maskers, all in garments like shepherds, 
made of fine cloth of gold and fine crimson satin 
paned, and caps of the same, with visors of good 



CARDINAL WOLSEY. llo 

proportion of visnomy ; tlieir hairs, and beards, 
eitlier of fine gold wire, or else of silver, and 
some being of black silk ; having sixteen torch 
bearers, besides their drums, and other persons 
attending upon tliem, with visors, and clothed 
all in satin, of the same colours. And at his 
coming, and before he came into tlie hall, yc 
shall understand, that he came by water to the 
water gate, without any noise ; where, against 
his coming, were laid charged many chambers 2, 
and at his landing they were all shot off, which 
made such a rumble in the air, that it was like 
thunder. It made all the noblemen, ladies, and 
gentlewomen, to muse what it should mean 
coming so suddenly, they sitting quietly at a 
solemn banquet ; under this sort : First, ye shall 
perceive that the tables were set in the chamber 
of presence, banquet-wise covered, my Lord Car- 
dinal sitting under the cloth of estate, and there 
having his service all alone ; and then was there 
set a lady and a nobleman, or a gentleman and 
gentlewoman, throughout all the tables in the 
chamber on the one side, which were made and 



^ Chambers, short guns, or cannon, standing upon their breech- 
ing without carriages, chiefly used for festive occasions ; and having 
their name most probably from being little more than chaniher.i for 
powder. It was by the discharge of these chambers in the play of 
Henry Vlllth. that the Globe Theatre was burnt in 1613. Shak- 
speare followed pretty closely the narrative of Cavendish. 



114 THE LIFE OF 

joined as it were but one table. All which order 
and device was done and devised by the Lord 
Sands, Lord Chamberlain to the king ; and also 
by Sir Henry Guilford, Comptroller to the king. 
Then immediately after this great shot of guns, 
the cardinal desired the Lord Chamberlain, and 
Comptroller, to look what this sudden shot 
should mean, as though he knew nothing of the 
matter. They thereupon looking out of the 
windows into Thames, returned again, and 
showed him, that it seemed to them there should 
be some noblemen and strangers arrived at his 
bridge, as ambassadors from some foreign prince. 
With that, quoth the cardinal, " I shall desire 
you, because ye can speak French, to take the 
pains to go down into the hall to encounter and 
to receive them, according to their estates, and 
to conduct them into this chamber, where they 
shall see us, and all these noble personages sitting 
merrily at our banquet, desiring them to sit down 
with us, and to take part of our fare and pastime. 
Then [they] went incontinent down into the 
hall, where they received them with twenty new 
torches, and conveyed them up into the chamber, 
with such a number of di'ums and fifes as I have 
seldom seen together, at one time in any masque. 
At their arrival into the chamber, two and two 
together, they went directly before the cardinal 
where he sat, saluting him very reverently ; to 



CARDINAL WOLSEY. 115 

whom the Lord Chamberlain lor them said : " Sir, 
for as much as they be strangers, and can speak 
no EngHsh, they have desired me to declare unto 
your Grace thus : they, having understanding 
of this your triumphant banquet, where was 
assembled such a number of excellent fair dames, 
could do no less, under the supportation of your 
good grace, but to repair hither to view as well 
their incomparable beauty, as for to accompany 
them at mumchance 3, and then after to dance 
with them, and so to have of them, acquaintance. 
And, sir, they furthermore require of your Grace 
licence to accomplish the cause of their repair." 
To whom the cardinal answered, that he was 
very well contented they should so do. Then 
the maskers went first and saluted all the dames 
as they sat, and then returned to the most wor- 
thiest, and there opened a cup full of gold, with 
crowns, and other pieces of coin, to whom they 
set divers pieces to cast at. Thus in this man- 
ner perusing all' the ladies and gentlewomen, and 
to some they lost, and of some they won. And 
thus done, they returned unto the cardinal, with 
great reverence, pouring down all the crowns in 
the cup, which was about two hundred crowns. 
" At all," quoth the cardinal, and so cast the 



^ Muvichancc appears to liavc been a game played with dicr, at 
which silence was to be observed. 



116 THE LIFE OF 

dice, and won them all at a cast ; whereat was 
great joy made. Then quoth the cardinal to my 
Lord Chamberlain, " I pray you," quoth he, 
" show them that it seemeth me that there should 
be among them some noble man, whom I sup- 
pose to be much more worthy of honour to sit 
and occupy this room and place than I ; to whom 
I would most gladly, if I knew him, surrender 
my place according to my duty." Then spake 
my Lord Chamberlain unto them in French, 
declaring my Lord Cardinal's mind, and they 
rounding ^ him again in the ear, my Lord Cham- 
berlain said to my Lord Cardinal, " Sir, they 
confess," quoth he, " that among them there is 
such a noble personage, whom, if your Grace 
can appoint him from the other, he is contented 
to disclose himself, and to accept your place 
most worthily." With that the cardinal, taking 
a good advisement among them, at the last, 
quoth he, *' Me seemeth the gentleman with the 
black beard should be even he." And with that 
he arose out of his chair, and offered the same 
to the gentleman in the black beard, with his cap 
in his hand. The person to whom he offered 
then his chair was Sir Edward Neville, a comely 
knight of a goodly personage, that much more 
resembled the king's person in that mask, than 

■» Rounding, sometimes spelt rowning, i. e. wJiisperhig. 



CARDINAL WOLSKV. II7 

any other. The king, hearing and perceiving 
the cardinal so deceived in his estimation and 
choice, could not forbear laughing ; but plucked 
down his visor, and Master Neville's also, and 
dashed out with such a pleasant countenance and 
cheer, that all noble estates there assembled, 
seeing the king to be there amongst them, re- 
joiced very much. The cardinal eftsoons desired 
his highness to take the place of estate, to whom 
the king answered, that he would go first and 
shift his apparel ; and so departed, and went 
straight into my lord's bedchamber, where was a 
great fire made and prepared for him ; and there 
new apparelled him with rich and princely gar- 
ments. And in the time of the king's absence, 
the dishes of the banquet were clean taken up, 
and the tables spread again with new and sweet 
perfumed cloths ; every man sitting still until 
the king and his maskers came in among them 
again, every man being newly apparelled. Then 
the king took his seat under the cloth of estate, 
commanding no man to remove, but sit still, as 
they did before. Then in came a new banquet 
before the king's majesty, and to all the rest 
through the tables, wherein, I suppose, were 
served two hundred dishes or above, of wondrous 
costly meats and devices, subtilly devised. Thus 
passed they forth the whole night with banquet- 
ing, dancing, and other triumphant devices, to the 



118 THE LIFE OF 

great comfort of the king, and pleasant regard of 
the nobiHty there assembled. 

All this matter I have declared at large, be- 
cause ye shall understand what joy and delight 
the cardinal had to see his prince and sovereign 
lord in his house so nobly entertained and 
pleased, which was always his only study, to 
devise things to his comfort, not passing of the 
charges or expenses. It delighted him so much, 
to have the king's pleasant princely presence, 
that no thing was to him more delectable than 
to cheer his sovereign lord, to whom he owed so 
much obedience and loyalty ; as reason required 
no less, all things well considered. 

Thus passed the cardinal his life and time, 
from day to day, and year to year, in such great 
wealth, joy, and triumph, and glory, having 
always on his side the king's especial favour ; 
until Fortune, of whose favour no man is longer 
assured than she is disposed, began to wax some- 
thing wroth with his prosperous estate, [and] 
thought she would devise a mean to abate his 
high port ; wherefore she procured Venus, the 
insatiate goddess, to be her instrument. To work 
her purpose, she brought the king in love with a 
gentlewoman, that, after she perceived and felt 
the king's good will towards her, and how diligent 
he was both to please her, and to grant all her 
requests, she wrought the carchnal much dis- 



CARDINAL VVOLSEY. llfj 

pleasure ; as hereafter shall be more at large 
declared. This gentlewoman, the daughter of 
Sir Thomas Bole} n, being at that time but only 
a bachelor knight, the which after, for the love 
of his daughter, was promoted to higher digni- 
ties. He bare at divers several times for the 
most part all the rooms of estimation in the 
king's house ; as Comptroller, Treasurer, Vice 
Chamberlain, and Lord Chamberlain. Then was 
he made Viscount Rochford ; and at the last 
created Earl of Wiltshire, and Knight of the 
noble Order of the Garter ; and, for his more 
increase of gain and honour, he was made Lord 
Privy Seal, and most chiefest of the king's privy 
council. Continuing therein until his son and 
daughter did incur the king's indignation and 
displeasure. The king fantasied so much his 
daughter Anne, that almost all things began to 
grow out of frame and good order ^. 

To tell you how the king's love began to take 
place, and what followed thereof, I will even as 
much as in me lieth, declare [unto] you. This 



5 " The king gave good testymony of his love to this lady, cre- 
ating her in one day Marquesse of Pembroke (that I may use the 
words of the patent) for the nobylity of her stocke, excellency of 
her virtues and conditions^ and other shewes of honesty and good- 
ness worthyly to bee commended in her). And givijig her a 
patent for a 1000 pounds yerely to maynteyne this honour with. 
She was the first woman, I read, to have honor given to her and 
her heyres male." .S'/> Roirer Tiri/sdcn's MS. ni>lc. 



120 THE LIFE OF 

gentlewoman, Mistress Anne Boleyn, being very 
young 6 was sent into the realm of France, and 
there made one of the French -^ queen's women, 
continuing there until the French queen died. 
And then was she sent for home again ; and 
being again with her father, he made such means 
that she was admitted to be one of Queen Ka- 
tharine's maids, among whom, for her excellent 
gesture and behaviour, [she] did excel all other ; 
in so much, as the king began to kindle the 
brand of amours ; which was not known to any 
person, ne scantly to her own person. 

In so much [as] my Lord Percy, the son and 
heir of the Earl of Northumberland, then attended 



6 " Not above seven yeares of age. Anno 1514." as appears from 
a fragment of this life with notes by Sir Roger Twysden^ of which 
a few copies were printed in 1808^ by Mr. Triphook, from whence 
also the following note is copied. 

7 " It should seeme by some that she served three in France 
successively ; Mary of England raaryed to Lewis the twelfth, an. 
1514, with whome she went out of England, but Lewis dying the 
first of January following, and that Queene (being) to returne 
home, sooner than either Sir Thomas Bullen or some other of her 
frendes liked she should, she was preferred to Clauda, daughter 
to Lewis XII. and wife to Francis I. then Queene (it is likely 
upon the commendation of Mary the Dowager), who not long after 
dying, an. 1524, not yet weary of France she went to live with 
Marguerite, Dutchess of Alancon and Berry, a Lady much com- 
mended for her favor towards good letters, but never enough for 
the Protestant religion then in the infancy — from her, if I am not 
deceived, she first learnt the grounds of the Protestant religion ; so 
that England may seem to owe some part of her hajjpyness derived 
from that Ladv." 



CAimiNAL WOLSEY. 121 

upon the Lord Cardinal, and was also his servi- 
tor ; and when it chanced the Lord Cardinal at 
any time to repair to the court, the Lord Percy 
would then resort for his pastime unto the 
queen's chamber, and there would fall in dalliance 
among the queen's maidens, being at the last 
more conversant with Mistress Anne Boleyn 
than with any other ; so that there gi'ew such a 
secret love between them that, at length, they 
were insured together 3, intending to marry. 
The which thing came to the king's knowledge, 
who was then much offended. Wherefore he 
could hide no longer his secret affection, but 
revealed his secret intendment unto my Lord 
Cardinal in that behalf; and consulted with him 
to infringe the precontract between them : in- 
somuch, that after my Lord Cardinal was de- 
parted from the court, and returned home to his 
place at Westminster, not forgetting the king's 
request and counsel, being in his gallery, called 
there before him the said Lord Percy unto his 
presence, and before us his servants of his 

8 This expression, unless the author himself were misinformed, 
must not be extended to imply an absolute precontract. Lord 
Herbert, in his Life of Henry VIII. p. 448, has published an original 
letter from this nobleman, then Earl of Northumberland, written 
in the year 1536, a short time before Q. Anne's suffering, in which 
he denies any such contract, in the most solemn terms. This letter 
will be found in the Appendix. W. 

I liavc i)laccd this letter in the Appendix (Letter VI I|) for the 
convenience of the reader. 



122 THE LIFE OF 

chamber, saying thus unto him. " I marvel not 
a little," quoth he, " of thy peevish folly, that 
thou wouldest tangle and ensure thyself with a 
foolish girl yonder in the court, I mean Anne 
Boleyn. Dost thou not consider the estate that 
God hath called thee unto in this world ? For 
after the death of thy noble father, thou art 
most like to inherit and possess one of the most 
worthiest earldoms of this realm. Therefore it 
had been most meet, and convenient for thee, 
to have sued for the consent of thy father in 
that behalf, and to have also made the king's 
highness privy thereto ; requiring therein his 
princely favour, submitting all thy whole pro- 
ceeding in all such matters unto his highness, 
who would not only accept thankfully your sub- 
mission, but would, I assure thee, provide so 
for your purpose therein, that he would advance 
you much more nobly, and have matched you 
according to your estate and honour, whereby 
ye might have grown so by your wisdom and 
honourable behaviour into the king's high esti- 
mation, that it should have been much to your 
increase of honour. But now behold what ye 
have done through your wilfulness. Ye have 
not only offended your natural father, but also 
your most gracious sovereign lord, and matched 
yourself with one, such as neither the king, ne 
yet your father will be agreeable with the mat- 



CARDINAL WOLSEY. 11:^3 

ter. And hereof I })ut you out of doubt, that I 
will send for your father, and at his comhig, he 
shall either break this unadvised contract, or 
else disinherit thee for ever. The king's ma- 
jesty himself will complain to thy father on thee, 
and require no less at his hand than I have 
said; whose highness intended to have preferred 
[Anne Boleyn] unto another person, with whom 
the king hath travelled already, and being 
almost at a point with the same person, although 
she knoweth it not, yet hath the king, most like 
a politic and prudent prince, conveyed the mat- 
ter in such sort, that she, upon the king's motion, 
will be (I doubt not) right glad and agreeable 
to the same." " Sir," (quoth the Lord Percy, all 
weeping), " I knew nothing of the king's pleasure 
therein, for whose displeasure I am very sorry. 
I considered that I was of good years, and 
thought myself sufficient to provide me of a 
convenient wife, whereas my fancy served me 
best, not doubting but that my lord my father 
would have been right well persuaded. And 
though she be a simple maid, and having but a 
knight to her father, yet is she descended of 
right noble parentage. As by her mother slie 
is nigh of the Norfolk blood : and of her father's 
side lineally descended of the Earl of Ormond, 
he being one of the earl's heirs general ^. Why 

'' Geffrey IJollcn, a gentlemen of Norfolk, Mayor of London, 



IM THE LIFE OF 

should I then, sir, be any thing scrupulous to 
match with her, whose estate of descent is 
equivalent with mine when I shall be in most 
dignity ? Therefore I most humbly require your 
grace of your especial favour herein ; and also 
to entreat the king's most royal majesty most 
lowly on my behalf for his princely benevolence 
in this matter, the which I cannot deny or for- 
sake." " Lo, sirs," quoth the cardinal, '* ye may 
see what conformity and wisdom is in this wilful 
boy's head. I thought that when thou heardest 
me declare the king's intended pleasure and 
travail herein, thou wouldest have relented and 
wholly submitted thyself, and all thy wilful and 
unadvised fact, to the king's royal will and pru- 
dent pleasure, to be fully disposed and ordered 
by his grace's disposition, as his highness should 
seem good." '* Sir, so I would," quoth the Lord 
Percy, *' but in this matter I have gone so far, 
before many so worthy witnesses, that I know 
not how to avoid my self nor to discharge my 
conscience." " Why, thinkest thou," quoth the 
cardinal, " that the king and I know not what we 



1457, marryed one of the daughters and heyres of Thomas Lord 
Hoo and Hastings, hy whome he had William Bolleyn (knight of 
the Bath at Richard 3ds coronation) who marryed the Earl of 
Ormonds daughter (he though of Ireland, sate in the English par- 
liament above English Barons), by her he had Thomas Bollen, 
whome the Eric of Surrey after Duke of Norfolk chose for his 
son-in-law ; of which marriage this Anne was born, 1507. 

Note from Sir R. Twysden's MS. Frag: 



CARDINAL WOLSEY. 1Q5 

have to do in as weighty a matter as this ? Yes 
(quoth he), I warrant thee. Howheit I can see 
in thee no submission to the purpose." " For- 
sooth, my Lord," quoth the Lord Percy, " if it 
please your grace, I will submit myself wholly 
unto the king's majesty and [your] grace in this 
matter, my conscience being discharged of the 
weighty burthen of my precontract." " Well 
then," quoth the cardinal, " I will send for your 
father out of the north parts, and he and we shall 
take such order for the avoiding of this thy hasty 
folly as shall be by the king thought most expe- 
dient. And in the mean season I charge thee, 
and in the king's name command thee, that thou 
presume not once to resort into her company, 
as thou intendest to avoid the king's high in- 
dignation." And this said he rose up and went 
into his chamber. 

Then was the Earl of Northumberland sent 
for in all haste, in the king's name, who upon 
knowledge of the king's pleasiu'e made quick 
speed to the court. And at his first coming out 
of the north he made his first repair unto my 
Lord Cardinal, at whose mouth lie was adver- 
tised of the cause of his hasty sending for ; being 
in my Lord Cardinal's gallery with him in secret 
communication a long while. And after their 
long talk my Lord Cardinal called for a cup of 
wine, and drinking together they brake u)), and 



126 THE LIFE OF 

SO departed the earl, upon whom we were com- 
manded to wait to convey him to his servants. 
And in his going away, when he came to the 
gallery's end, he sat him down upon a form that 
stood there for the waiters some time to take 
their ease. And being there set called his son the 
Lord Percy unto him, and said in our presence 
thus in effect. " Son," quoth he, " thou hast 
always been a proud, presumptuous, disdainful, 
and a very unthrift waster, and even so hast thou 
now declared thyself. Therefore what joy, what 
comfort, what pleasure or solace should I con- 
ceive in thee, that thus without discretion and 
advisement hast misused thyself, having no man- 
ner of regard to me thy natural father, ne in 
especial unto thy sovereign lord, to whom all 
honest and loyal subjects bear faithful and 
humble obedience ; ne yet to the wealth of thine 
own estate, but hast so unadvisedly ensured thy- 
self to her, for whom thou hast purchased thee 
the king's displeasure, intolerable for any subject 
to sustain ! But that his grace of his mere wis- 
dom doth consider the lightness of thy head, and 
wilful qualities of thy person, his displeasure 
and indignation were sufficient to cast me and 
all my posterity into utter subversion and disso- 
lution : but he being my especial and singular 
good lord and favourable prince, and my Lord 
Cardinal my good lord hath and doth clearly 



CARDINAL WOLSEY. 127 

excuse me in tliy lewd fact, and doth rather 
lament thy lightness than malign the same ; and 
hath devised an order to be taken for thee ; to 
whom both thou and I be more bound than we 
be able well to consider. I pray to God that 
this may be to thee a sufficient monition and 
warning to use thyself more wittier hereafter ; 
for thus I assure thee, if thou dost not amend 
thy prodigality, thou wilt be the last earl of our 
house. For of thy natural inclination thou art 
disposed to be wasteful prodigal, and to con- 
sume all that thy progenitors have with gTeat 
travail gathered together and kept witli honour. 
But having the king's majesty my singular good 
and gracious lord, I intend (God willing) so to 
dispose my succession, that ye shall consume 
thereof but a little. For I do not purpose, 
I assure thee, to make thee mine heir ; for, 
praises be to God, I have more choice of boys 
who, I trust, will prove themselves much better, 
and use them more like unto nobility, among 
whom I will choose and take the best and most 
likeliest to succeed me. Now, masters and 
good gentlemen," (quoth he unto us), " it may 
be your chances hereafter, when I am dead, to 
see the proof of these things that I have spoken 
to my son prove as true as I have spoken them. 
Yet in the mean season I desire you all to be 
his friends, and to tell him his fault when he 



128 THE LIFE OF 

doth amiss, wherein ye shall show yourselves to 
be much his friends." And with that he took 
his leave of us. And said to his son thus : 
" Go your ways, and attend upon my lord's 
grace your master, and see that you do your 
duty." And so departed, and went his way 
down through the hall into his barge. 

Then after long debating and consultation 
upon the Lord Percy's assurance, it was de- 
vised that the same should be infringed and 
dissolved, and that the Lord Percy should marry 
with one of the Earl of Shrewsbury's daughters i ; 



' This was the Lady Mary Talbot, daughter to George Earl of 
Shrewsbury, by whom he had no issue. " Though little ceremony, 
and probably as little time, was used in patching up these nup- 
tials. As might be expected, they were most unhappy. So we 
are told, on the authority of the earl's own letters, in the very 
laboured account of the Percy family given in Collins' Peerage, 
ed. 1779, perhaps the best piece of family history in our language. 
" Henry, the unthrifty Earl of Northumberland, died at Hackney 
in the prime of life, about ten or twelve years after he had con- 
sented to this marriage. Of this term but a very small portion 
was spent in company of his lady. He lived long enough, how- 
ever, not only to witness the destruction of his own happiness, but 
the sad termination of Anne Boleyn's life. In the admirable 
account of the Percy family, referred to above, no mention is made 
of the lady who, on these terms, consented to become Countess of 
Northumberland, in her long widowhood. She sequestered her- 
self from the world at Wormhill, on the banks of the Derbyshire 
Wye, amidst some of the sublimest scenery of the Peak, Worm- 
hill is about eighteen miles from Sheffield, where Lady Northum- 
berland's father, brother, and nephew, successively Earls of 
Shrewsbury, spent the greater part of their lives." 

Who wrote Cavendiah's Life of Wolsey ? p. 30. 
The reader will be pleased to refer to the note as it now stands 



CARDINAL WOLSEY. 1^29 

(as he did after) ; by means whereof the former 
contract was clearly undone. Wherewith Mis- 
tress Anne Boleyn was greatly offended, saying, 
that if it lay ever in her power, she would work 
the cardinal as much displeasure ; as she did in 
deed after. And } et was he nothing to blame, 
for he practised nothing in that matter, but it was 
the king's only device. And even as my Lord 
Percy was commanded to avoid her company, 
even so was she commanded to avoid the court, 
and sent home again to her father for a sea- 
son ; whereat she smoked ^ : for all this while 
she knew nothing of the king's intended pur- 
pose. 

But ye may see when fortune beginneth to 
lower, how she can compass a matter to work 
displeasure by a far fetch. For now, mark, good 
reader, the grudge, how it began, that in process 
[of time] burst out to the utter undoing of the 
cardinal. O Lord, what a God art thou ! that 
workest thy secrets so wonderfully, which be 
not perceived until they be brought to pass 
and finished. Mark this history following, good 
reader, and note every circumstance, and thou 



in Mr. Hunter's Essay, prefixed to the present edition. He thinks 
that Wreshill, and not Wormhill, must be meant, as there is no other 
evidence to show that Lady Percy had a house at Wormhill. 

2 i. Q. fumed. This metaphorical use of the word has not occurred 
to me elsewhere. 

K 



130 THE LIFE OF 

shalt espy at thine eye the wonderful work of 
God, against such persons as forgetteth God 
and his great benefits ! Mark, I say, mark them 
well! 

After that all these troublesome matters of 
my Lord Percy's were brought to a good stay, 
and all things finished that were before devised. 
Mistress Anne Boleyn was revoked unto the 
courts, where she flourished after in great esti- 
mation and favour ; having always a privy in- 
dignation unto the cardinal, for breaking off the 
precontract made between my Lord Percy and 
her, supposing that it had been his own device 
and will, and none other, not yet being privy to 
the king's secret mind, although that he had a 
great affection unto her. Howbeit, after she 
knew the king's pleasure, and the great love 
that he bare her in the bottom of his stomach, 
then she began to look very hault and stout, 
having all manner of jewels, or rich apparel, 
that might be gotten with money. It was there- 

3 The charms of Anne had also attracted Sir Thomas Wyatt, 
and some of his poems evidently allude to his passion ; he was 
afterwards closely questioned as to the nature of his intimacy with 
her. A very curious narrative of some particulars relating to this 
attachment, from the pen of a descendant of the poet, has for- 
tunately been preserved among the MS. collections of Lewis the 
antiquary. A few copies of this memoir were printed in 1817, but 
as it has still almost the rarity of a manuscript, I shall enrich my 
Appendix by reprinting it as a most curious and valuable docu- 
ment relating to this eventful period of our history. 



CARDINAL WOLSEY. 131 

fore judged by-and-bye through all the court of 
every man, that she being in such favour, might 
work masteries with the king, and obtain any 
suit of him for her friend. 

And all this while, she being in this estima- 
tion in all places, it is no doubt but good Queen 
Katharine, having this gentlewoman daily attend- 
ing upon her, both heard by report, and perceived 
before her eyes, the matter how it framed against 
her (good lady), although she showed ne to 
Mistress Anne, ne unto the king, any spark or 
kind of grudge or displeasure ; but took and 
accepted all things in good part, and with wis- 
dom and great patience dissimuled the same, 
having Mistress Anne in more estimation for 
the king's sake than she had before, declaring 
herself thereby to be a perfect Griselda, as her 
patient acts shall hereafter more evidently to all 
men be declared'*. 



■* In the very interesting memoir of Anne Boleyn, by George 
Wyat, which the reader will find in the Appendix, the queen's 
prudent conduct is mentioned, and the following anecdote related : 
' These things being well perceived of the queen, which she knew 
well to frame and work her advantage of, and therefore the oftener 
had her (i. e. Anne Boleyn) at cards with her, the rather also that 
the king might have the less her company, and the lady the more 
excuse to be from him, also she esteem herself the kindlier used, 
and yet withal the more to give the king occasion to see the nail 
upon her finger. And in this entertainment, of time they had a 
certain game, that I cannot name, then frequented, wherein deal- 
ing, the king and queen meeting they stopt ; and the young lady's 



132 THE LIFE OF 

The king waxed so far in amours with this 
gentlewoman that he knew not how much he 
might advance her. This perceiving, the great 
lords of the council, bearing a secret gi'udge 
against the cardinal, because that they could not 
rule in the scene well for him as they would, 
who kept them low, and ruled them as well as 
other mean subjects, whereat they caught an 
occasion to invent a mean to bring him out of 
the king's high favour, and them into more 
authority of rule and civil governance. After 
long and secret consultation amongst them- 
selves, how to bring their malice to effect against 
the cardinal, they knew right well that it was 
very difficile for them to do any thing directly 
of themselves. Wherefore, they perceiving the 
great affection that the king bare lovingly unto 
Mistress Anne Boleyn, fantasying in their heads 
that she should be for them a sufficient and an 
apt instrument to bring their malicious purpose 
to pass, with her they often consulted in this 
matter. And she having both a very good wit, 
and also an inward desire to be revenged of the 
cardinal ^ was as agreeable to their requests as 

hap was, much to stop at a king. Which the queen noting, said 
to her, playfully, M;// Lady Anne, you have good hap to stop at a 
king, but you are like others, you will have all or none.' 

5 Yet nothing can be more strong than her expressions of gra- 
titude and affection to tlie cardinal at this period when his assist- 



CARDINAL WOLSEY. 133 

they were themselves. Wherefore there was no 
more to do but only to imagine some presented 
circumstances to induce their malicious accusa- 
tions. Insomuch that there was imagined and 
invented among them diverse imaginations and 
subtle devices, how this matter should be brought 
about. The enterprise thereof was so dangerous, 
that though they would fain have often at- 
tempted the matter with the king, yet they durst 



ance was of importance to her views. Two letters of hers to the 
cardinal have been published by Burnet, I. 55, [see our Appendix, 
Letter XI.] in which she says : " all the days of my life I am most 
bound of all creatures next the king's grace to love and serve your 
grace; of the which I beseech you never to doubt that ever I shall 
vary from this thought as long as any breath is in my body. And 
as touching your grace's trouble with the sweat, I thank our Lord 
that them that I desired and prayed for are scaped, and that is the 
king and you. And as for the coming of the Legate, I desire that 
much, and if it be God's pleasure, I pray him to send this matter 
shortly to a good end, and then I trust, my lord, to recompense part 
of your great pains." In another letter she says : " I do know the 
great pains and troubles that you have taken for me, both day and 
night, is never like to be recompensed on my part, but al only in 
loving you next the king's grace above all creatures living." In a 
third letter, published by Fiddes, " I am bound in the mean time 
to owe you my service: and then look what thing in the world I 
can imagine to do you pleasure in, you shall find me the gladdest 
woman in the world to do it, and next unto the king's grace, of one 
thing I make you full promise to be assured to have it, and that is 
my hearty love unfcignedly during my life." It should seem, 
therefore, unless we suppose her to have been insincere in her ex- 
pression of gratitude, that her animosity did not proceed from any 
displeasure at the rupture of the affair with Lord Percy ; but from 
subsequent causes. She was probably worked upon by the car- 
dinal's enemies in the court. 



134 THE LIFE OF 

not; for they knew the great loving affection 
and especial favour that the king bare to the 
cardinal, and also they feared the wonderous 
wit of the cardinal. For this they understood 
very well, that if their matter that they should 
propone against him were not grounded upon a 
just and an urgent cause, the king's favour 
being such towards him, and his wit such, that 
he would with policy vanquish all their purpose 
and travail, and then lye in a-wait to work them 
an utter destruction and subversion. Wherefore 
they were compelled, all things considered, to 
forbear their enterprise until they might espy a 
more convenient time and occasion. 

And yet the cardinal, espying the great zeal 
that the king had conceived in this gentlewoman, 
ordered himself to please as well the king as her, 
dissimuling the matter that lay hid in his breast, 
and prepared great banquets and solemn feasts 
to entertain them both at his own house. And 
thus the world began to grow into wonderful in- 
ventions, not heard of before in this realm. The 
love between the king and this gorgeous lady 
grew to such a perfection, that divers imagina- 
tions were imagined, whereof I leave to speak 
until I- come to the place where 1 may have more 
occasion. 

Then began a certain grudge to arise between 
the French king and the Duke of Bourbon, in so 



CARDINAL WOLSEY. 135 

much as the Duke, being vassal to the house of 
France, was constrained for the safeguard of his 
person to flee his dominions, and to forsake his 
territory and country, doubting tlie king's great 
maUce and indignation. The cardinal, having 
thereof intelligence, compassed in his head, that 
if the king our sovereign lord (having an occa- 
sion of wars with the realm of France), might 
retain the duke to be his general in the wars 
there : in as much as the duke was fled unto the 
emperor, to invite him also, to stir wars against 
the^French king. The cardinal having all this 
imagination in his head thought it good to move 
the king in this matter. And after the king 
was once advertised hereof, and conceived the 
cardinal's imagination and invention, he di'eamed 
of this matter more and more, until at the last it 
came in question among the council in consulta- 
tion, so that it was there Anally concluded that 
an embassy should be sent to the emperor about 
this matter ; with whom it was concluded that 
the king and the emperor should join in these 
wars against the French king, and that the Duke 
of Bourbon should be our sovereign lord's cham- 
pion and general in the field ; who had appointed 
him a great number of good soldiers over and 
besides the emperor's army, wliich was not small, 
and led by one of his own noblemen ; and also 
that the king should pay the duke his wages, and 



136 THE LIFE OF 

his retinue monthly. In so much as Sir John 
Russel, (who was after Earl of Bedford), lay 
continually beyond the seas in a secret place, 
assigned both for to receive the king's money 
and to pay the same monthly to the duke. So 
that the duke began fierce war with the French 
king in his own territory and dukedom, which 
the French king had confiscated and seized into 
his hands ; yet not known to the duke's enemies 
that he had any aid of the king our sovereign 
lord. And thus he wrought the French king 
much trouble and displeasure ; in so much as 
the French king was compelled of fine force to 
put harness on his back, and to prepare a puissant 
army royal, and in his own person to advance to 
defend and resist the duke's power and malice. 
The duke having understanding of the king's 
advancing was compelled of force to take Pavia, 
a strong town in Italy, with his host, for their 
security ; where as the king besieged him, and 
encamped him wondrous strongly, intending to 
enclose the Duke within this town, that he 
should not issue. Yet notwithstanding the duke 
would and did many times issue and skirmish 
with the king's army. 

Now let us leave the king in his camp before 
Pavia, and return again to the Lord Cardinal, 
who seemed to be more French than Imperial. 
But how it came to pass I cannot declare [unto] 



CARDINAL WOLSEY. 137 

you : ])Lit the [French] king lying in his camp, 
sent secretly into England a privy person, a very 
witty man, to entreat of a peace between him and 
the king our sovereign lord, whose name was 
John Joachin^; he was kept as secret as might 



•5 The name of this person was Giovanni Joacchino Passano, a 
Genoese; he was afterwards called Seigneur de Vaux. The emperor, 
it appears, was informed of his being in England, and for what 
purpose. The cardinal stated that Joacchino came over as a mer- 
chant, and that as soon as he discovered himself to be sent by the 
Lady Regent of France, he had made de Praet (the emperor's am- 
bassador) privy thereto, and likewise of the answer given to her 
proposals. The air of mystery which attached to this mission na- 
turally created suspicion, and after a few months, De Praet, in his 
letters to the emperor, and to Margaret, the governess of the 
Netherlands, expressed his apprehension that all was not right, 
and the reasons for his surmises. His letters were intercepted by 
the cardinal, and read before the council. Charles and Margaret 
complained of this insult, and the cardinal explained as well as he 
could. At the same time protesting against the misrepresentation 
of De Praet, and assuring them that nothing could be further from 
his wish than that any disunion should arise between the king his 
master and the emperor ; and notwithstanding the suspicious aspect 
of this transaction, his dispatches both immediately before and 
after this fracas strongly corroborate his assertions. [See additional 
note at the end of the Life.] Wolsey suspected that the Pope was 
inclined toward the cause of Francis, and reminded him, through 
the Bishop of Bath, of his obligations to Henry and Charles. The 
Pope had already taken the alarm, and had made terms with the 
French king, but had industriously concealed it from Wolsey, and 
at length urged in his excuse that he had no alternative. Joacchino 
was again in England upon a different mission, and was an eye- 
witiicss of the melancholy condition of the cardinal when his for- 
tunes were reversed. He sympathised with him, and interested 
himself for him with Francis and the Queen Dowager, as ap- 
pears by his letters published in Legrand, Hixioira du Dirorcc dc 
Henri VIII. 



138 THE LIFE OF 

be, that no man had inteUigence of his repau' ; 
for he was no Frenchman, but an Italian born, a 
man before of no estimation in France, or known 
to be in favour with his master, but to be a 
merchant, and for his subtle wit elected to 
entreat of such affairs as the king had com- 
manded him by embassy. This Joachin after 
his arrival here in England was secretly con- 
veyed unto the king's manor of Richmond, and 
there remained until Whitsuntide, at which time 
the cardinal resorted thither, and kept there the 
said feast very solemnly. In which season my lord 
caused this Joachin divers times to dine with him, 
whose talk and behaviour seemed to be witty, so- 
ber, and wondrous discreet. [He] continued in 
England long after, until he had (as it seemed) 
brought his purposed embassy to pass which he 
had in commission. For after this there was 
sent out immediately a restraint unto Sir John 
Russell, into those parts where he made his abid- 
ing beyond the seas, that he should retain and 
keep back that month's wages stiU in his hands, 
which should have been paid unto the Duke of 
Bourbon, until the king's pleasure were to him 
further known ; for want of which money at the 
day appointed of payment, the duke and his 
retinue were greatly dismayed and sore disap- 
pointed ; and when they saw that their money 
was not brought unto them as it was wont to 



CARDINAL WOLSEY. 139 

be. And being in so dangerous a case for want 
of \ictuals, which were wondrous scant and 
dear, there were many imaginations what should 
be the cause of the let thereof. Some said this, 
and some said they wist never what ; so that they 
mistrusted no thing less than the very cause 
thereof. In so much at the last, what for want 
of victual and other necessaries which could 
not be gotten within the town, the captains and 
soldiers began to grudge and mutter ; and at the 
last, for lack of victuals, were like all to perish. 
They being in this extremity came before the 
Duke of Bourbon their captain, and said, " Sir, we 
must be of very force and necessity compelled 
to yield us in to the danger of our enemies ; 
and better it were for us so to do than here to 
starve like dogs." When the duke heard the 
lamentations, and understood the extremities 
that they were brought unto for lack of money, 
he said again unto them, *' Sirs," quoth he, " ye 
are both valiant men and of noble courage, who 
have served here under me right worthily ; and 
for your necessity, whereof I am participant, I 
do not a little lament. (Howbeit) I shall desire 
you, as ye are noble in hearts and courage, so to 
take patience for a day or twain : and if suc- 
cour come not then from the King of England, 
as I doubt nothing that he will deceive us, I will 
well agree that we shall all ])ut ourschcs and all 



140 THE LIFE OF 

our lives unto the mercy of our enemies ;" where- 
with they were all agreeable. And expecting 
the coming of the king's money the space 
of three days, (the which days passed), the 
duke seeing no remedy called his noble men, 
and captains, and soldiers before him, and all 
weeping said, " O ye noble captains and valiant 
men, my gentle companions, I see no remedy in 
this necessity but either we must yield us unto 
our enemies, or else famish. And to yield the 
town and ourselves, I know not the mercy of 
our enemies. As for my part I pass not of their 
cruelties, for I know very well I shall suffer 
most cruel death if I come once into their hands. 
It is not for myself therefore that I do lament, 
but it is for your sakes ; it is for your lives ; it 
is also for the safeguard of your persons. For 
so that ye might escape the danger of your ene- 
mies' hands, I would most gladly suffer death. 
Therefore, good companions and noble soldiers, 
I shall require you all, considering the dan- 
gerous misery and calamity that we stand in at 
this present, to sell our lives most dearly rather 
than to be murdered like beasts. If ye will fol- 
low my counsel we will take upon us this night 
to give our enemies an assault in their camp, and 
by that means we may either escape, or else give 
them an overthrow. And thus it were better to 
die in the field like men, than to live in captivity 



CARDINAL WOLSEV. Ill 

and misery as prisoners." To the which they all 
agreed. " Then," quoth the duke, " Ye perceive 
that our enemy hath encamped us with a strong- 
camp, and that there is no way to enter but 
one, which is so planted with great ordnance, 
and force of men, that it is not possible to enter 
that way to fight with our enemies without great 
danger. And also, ye see that now of late they 
have had small doubt of us, insomuch as they 
have kept but slender watch. Therefore my 
policy and advice shall be this : That about the 
dead time of the night, when our enemies be 
most quiet at rest, there shall issue from us a 
number of the most deliverest soldiers to assault 
their camp ; who shall give the assault right 
secretly, even directly against the entry of the 
camp, which is almost invincible. Your fierce 
and sharp assault shall be to them in the camp 
so doubtful, that they shall be compelled to 
turn the strength of their entry that lyeth over 
against your assault, to beat you from the 
assault. Then will I issue out at the postern, 
and come to the place of their strength newly 
turned, and there, or they be ware, will I enter 
and fight with them at the same place where 
their guns and strength lay before, and so come 
to the rescue of you of the assault, and winning 
their ordnance which they have turned, beat 
them with their own pieces. And then we join- 



142 THE LIFE OF 

ing together in the field, I trust we shall have 
a fair hand of them. This device pleased them 
wondrous well. Then prepared they all that 
day for the purposed device, and kept them 
secret and close, without any noise or shot of 
piece within the town, which gave their enemies 
the less fear of any trouble that night, but every 
man went to their rest within their tents and 
lodgings quietly, nothing mistrusting that after 
ensued. 

Then when all the king's host was at rest, 
the assailants issued out of the town without any 
noise, according to the former appointment, and 
gave a fierce and cruel assault at the place 
appointed; that they within the camp had as 
much to do to defend it as was possible : and even 
as the duke had before declared to his soldiers, 
they within were compelled to turn their shot 
that lay at the entry against the assailants. 
With that issued the duke, and with him about 
fifteen or sixteen thousand men or more, and 
secretly in the night, his enemies being not privy 
of his coming until he was entered the field. 
And at his first entry he was master of all the 
ordnance that lay there, and slew the gunners ; 
and charged the said pieces and bent them 
against his enemies, [of] whom he slew won- 
drously a great number. He cut down tents and 
pavilions, and murdered them within them, or 



CARDINAL WOLSKY. 143 

they wist of [his] coming, suspecting nothing 
less than the duke's entry ; so that he won the 
field or ever the king could arise to the rescue : 
who was taken in his lodging or ever he was 
armed. And when the duke had obtained the 
field, and the French king taken prisoner, his 
men slain, and his tents robbed and spoiled, 
which were wondrous rich. And in the spoil, 
searching of the king's treasure in his coffers 
there was found among them the league newly 
concluded between the King of England and the 
French king, under the great seal of England ; 
which once by [the duke] perceived, he began 
to smell the impediment of his money which 
should have come to him from the king. Having 
upon due search of this matter further intelli- 
gence that all this matter and his utter undoing 
was concluded and devised by the Cardinal of 
England, the duke conceived such an indigna- 
tion hereupon against the cardinal, that after he 
had established all things there in good order and 
security, he went incontinent unto Rome, intend- 
ing there to sack the town, and to have taken the 
pope prisoner : where, at his first assault of the 
walls, he was the first man that was there slain. 
Yet, notwithstanding, his captains continued 
there the assault, and in conclusion won the 
town, and the pope fled unto Castle Angell, where 
he continued long after in great calamitv. 



144 THE LIFE OF 

I have written thus this history at large be- 
cause it was thought that the cardinal gave the 
chief occasion of all this mischief '^. Ye may per- 
ceive what thing soever a man purposeth, be he 
prince or prelate, yet notwithstanding God dis- 
posetli all things at his will and pleasure. 
Wherefore it is great folly for any wise man to 
take any weighty enterprise of himself, trusting 
altogether to his own wit, not calling for grace 
to assist him in all his proceedings. 

I have known and seen in my days that 



7 Dr. Fitldes has justly observed, that Cavendish, in his account 
of these transactions, asserted some things not only without suf- 
ficient authority, but contrary to the evidence of documents which 
he has adduced. By these it appears, that if there was any delay 
in the supplies promised on the part of England it was purely 
accidental; and that the remissness of the emperor to furnish his 
quota was the principal cause of the extremity to which the Duke 
of Bourbon's army was reduced. Cavendish is also wrong in his 
relation of the siege of Pavia and its consequences. The fact is, 
that the Duke of Bourbon did not command in the town, but 
marched at the head of the imperial army to relieve it ; and the 
garrison did not sally out until the two armies were engaged. 
The demonstrations of joy with which the victory at Pavia was 
received in London is also an argument for the sincerity of Henry 
and the cardinal at this time. The story of the treaty between 
Henry and Francis, said to have been found in the tent of the 
latter after the victory, is also a mere fiction. In the spirit of a 
true son of the Apostohc Church, Cavendish deprecates every 
thing which might tend to bring the Pope into jeopardy ; and he 
cannot help bearing hard even upon the cardinal, because he was 
thought indirectly the cause ' of all this mischief.' What is here 
said receives confirmation from some interesting letters of the car- 
dinal in the Appendix to Gait's Life of Wolsey, No. IV. V. VI. 
p. cxxxiv, &c. 4to edition, Lond. 1812. 



CARDINAL WOLSEY. 14.5 

princes and great men [who] would either as- 
semble at any parliament, or in any other great 
business, first would most reverently call to 
God for his gracious assistance therein. And 
now I see the contrary. AVlierefore me seems 
that they trust more in their own wisdoms and 
imaginations than they do to God's help and 
disposition ; and therefore often they speed 
thereafter, and their matters take no success. 
Therefore not only in this history, but in divers 
others, ye may perceive right evident examples. 
And yet I see no man almost in authority or 
high estate regard or have any respect to the 
same ; the greater is the pity, and the more to 
be lamented. Now will I desist from this matter 
and proceed to other. 

Upon the taking of the French king, many 
consultations and divers opinions were then in 
argument among the council here in England. 
Whereof some held opinion that if the king- 
would invade the realm of France in proper 
person, with a puissant army royal, he might 
easily conquer the same; considering that the 
French king, and the most part of the noble 
peers of France, were then prisoners with the 
emperor. Some again said how that were no 
honour for the king our sovereign lord, (the 
king being in captivity). But some said that 
the French king ought by the law of arms to 



146 THE LIFE OF 

be the king's prisoner, forasmuch as he was 
taken by the king's champion and general cap- 
tain, the Duke of Bourbon, and not by the 
emperor. So that some moved the king to 
take war thereupon with the emperor, unless he 
would deliver the French king out of his hands 
and possession ; with divers many other ima- 
ginations and inventions, even as men's fanta- 
sies served them, too long here to be rehearsed : 
the which I leave to the writers of chronicles. 

Thus continuing long in debating upon the 
matter, and every man in the court had their 
talk, as will without wit led their fantasies ; at 
the last it was devised by means of divers em- 
bassies sent into England out of the realm of 
France, desiring the king our sovereign lord to 
take order with the emperor for the French 
king's deliverance, as his royal wisdom should 
seem good, wherein the cardinal bare the stroke ; 
so that after long deliberation and advice taken 
in this matter, it was thought good by the car- 
dinal that the emperor should redeliver out 
of his ward the French king, upon sufficient 
pledges. And that the king's two sons, that is 
to say, the Dolphin and the Duke of Orleans 
should be delivered in hostage for the king 
their father ; which was in conclusion brouglit 
to pass. 

After the king's deliverance out of the em- 



CARDINAL WOLSEY. 147 

peror's bondage, and his two sons received in 
hostage to the emperor's use, and the king our 
sovereign lord's security for the recompense of 
all such demands and restitutions as should be 
demanded of the French king, the cardinal, 
lamenting the French king's calamity, and the 
pope's great adversity, who yet remained in 
castle Angell, either as a prisoner, or else for 
his defence and safeguard (I cannot tell whe- 
ther), travailed all that he could ^ with the king 
and his council to take order as well for the 
delivery of the one as for the quietness of tlie 
other. At last, as ye have heard here before, 
how divers of the great estates and lords of 
the council lay in a-wait with my Lady Anne 
Boleyn, to espy a convenient time and occa- 
sion to take the cardinal in a brake ^; [they] 



8 These intrigues, in which the cardinal bore so large a part, 
did not redound to the glory of his country. Our merry neigh- 
bours even then had begun to make our diplomatic inferiority the 
subject of their sport and ridicule. William Tindall, in his Prac- 
tice of popish Prelates, referring to these events, tells us, " The 
Frenchmen of late dayes made a play or a disguising at Paris, in 
which the emperour daunsed with the pope and the French king, 
and weried them, the king of England sitting on a hye bench, and 
looking on. And when it was asked, why he daunsed not, it was 
answered, that he sate there, hut to pay the minstrels their wages 
onely : as who should say, wee paid for all mens dauncing." Tiii- 
dall's Works, p. 375. A. D. 1572. W. 

•■' A hi-akc here seems to signify a snare or trap. The word has 
much puzzled the commentators on Shakspeare (See Measure for 
Measure, Act II. Sc. 1). One of itsantient significations was a 

L "2 



148 THE LIFE OF 

thought then, now is the time come that we 
have expected, supposing it best to cause him 
to take upon him the king's commission, and to 
travel beyond the seas in this matter, saying, to 
encourage him thereto, that it were more meet 
for his high discretion, wit, and authority, to 
compass and bring to pass a perfect peace 
among these great and most mighty princes of 
the world than any other within this realm or 
elsewhere. Their intent and purpose was only 
but to get him out of the king's daily presence, 
and to convey him out of the realm, that they 
might have convenient leisure and opportunity to 
adventure their long desired enterprise, and by 
the aid of their chief mistress, my Lady Anne, 
to deprave him so unto the king in his absence, 
that he should be rather in his high displeasure 
than in his accustomed favour, or at the least 
to be in less estimation with his majesty. 
Well! what will you have more? This matter 
was so handled that the cardinal was com- 
manded to prepare himself to this journey ; the 



sharp bit to break horses with. A farrier's brake was a machine to 
confine or trammel the legs of unruly horses. An antient instru- 
ment of torture was also called a brake ; and a thorny brake meant 
an intricate thicket of thorns. Shakerly Marmion, in his comedy 
of ' Holland's Leaguer', evidently uses the word in the same sense 
with Cavendish : 

" Her I'll make 

A stale to catch this courtier in a brake." 



CARDINAL VVOLSEY. 149 

which he was fain to take upon liini ; but whe- 
ther it was with his good will or no, I am not 
well able to tell you. But this I know, that 
he made a short abode after the determined 
resolution thereof, but caused all things to 
be prepared onward toward his journey. And 
every one of his servants were appointed that 
should attend upon him in the same. 

AVlien all things were fully concluded, and 
for this noble embassy provided and furnished, 
then was no lett, but advance forwards in the 
name of God. My Lord Cardinal had with him 
such of the lords and bishops and other worthy 
persons as were not privy of the conspiracy. 

Then marched he forward out of his own house 
at Westminster, passing through all London ^ 
over London Bridge, having before him of gen- 
tlemen a great number, three in a rank, in black 
velvet livery coats, and the most part of them 
with great chains of gold about their necks. 
And all his yeomen, with noblemen's and gen- 
tlemen's servants following him in French tawny 
livery coats ; having embroidered upon the backs 
and breasts of tlie said coats these letters : T. 



• The 3tl Day of July (1526), the Cardinal of Yorke passed 
through the City of London, with many lords and gentlemen, to 

the numher of twelve hundred horse The lUh day of May he 

look shipping at Dover, and landed at Calais the same day. 

Grafton, p. 1150. 



150 THE LIFE OF 

and C, under the cardinal's hat. His sumpter 
mules, which were twenty in number and more, 
with his carts and other carriages of his train, 
were passed on before, conducted and guarded 
with a great number of bows and spears. He 
rode Hke a cardinal, very sumptuously, on a 
mule trapped with crimson velvet upon velvet, 
and his stirrups of copper, and gilt; and his 
spare mule following him with like apparel. 
And before him he had his two great crosses 
of silver, two great pillars of silver, the great 
seal of England, his cardinal's hat, and a gen- 
tleman that carried his valaunce, otherwise 
called a cloakbag ; which was made altogether 
of fine scarlet cloth, embroidered over and over 
with cloth of gold very richly, having in it a 
cloak of fine scarlet. Thus passed he through 
London, and all the way of his journey, having 
his harbingers passing before to provide lodging 
for his train. 

The first journey he made to Dartford in 
Kent, unto Sir Richard Wiltshire's house, 
which is two miles beyond Dartford ; where all 
his train were lodged that night, and in the 
country thereabouts. The next day he rode to 
Rochester, and lodged in the bishop's palace 
there ; and the rest of his train in the city, and 
in Stroud on this side the bridge. The third 
day he rode from thence to Feversham, and there 



CARDINAL WOLSEY. 151 

was lodged in the abbey, and his train in the 
town, and some in the country thereabouts. 
The fourth day he rode to Canterbury, where 
he was encountered with the worshipfuUest of 
the town and country, and lodged in the abbey 
of Christchurch, in the prior's lodging. And 
all his train in the city, where he continued 
three or four days ; in which time there was the 
great jubilee, and a fair in honour of the feast of 
St. Thomas their patron. In which day of the 
said feast, within the abbey there was made a 
solemn procession ; and my Lord Cardinal went 
presently in the same, apparelled in his legan- 
tine ornaments, with his Cardinal's hat on his 
head ; who commanded the monks and all their 
quire to sing the litany after this sort, Sancta 
Maria ora pro papa nostro Clemente ; and so 
perused the litany tlirough, my Lord Cardinal 
kneeling at the quire door, at a form covered 
with carpets and cusliions. The monks and all 
the quire standing all tliat while in the midst of 
the body of the church. At which time 1 saw 
the Lord Cardinal weep very tenderly ; which 
was, as we supposed, for heaviness that the 
pope was at that present in such calamity and 
great danger of tlie Lance Knights ^. 



^ L(ui::cii-Kiicc/tfx, the name by which these l)an{ls of German 
mercenaries were then desit'nateil. 



1.52 THE LIFE OF 

The next day I was sent with letters from 
my Lord Cardinal unto Calais, by empost, inso- 
much as I was that same night at Calais. And 
at my landing I found standing upon the pier, 
without [the] Lantern Gate, all the council of 
the town, to whom I delivered and dispatched 
my message and letters or ever I entered the 
town ; where I lay two days or my lord came 
thither ; who arrived in the haven the second 
day after my coming, about eight of the clock 
in the morning : where he was received in pro- 
cession with all the worshipfuUest persons of 
the town in most solemn wise. And in the 
Lantern Gate was set for him a form, with 
carpets and cushions, whereat he kneeled and 
made his prayers before his entry any further 
in the town ; and there he was censed with two 
great censers of silver, and sprinkled with holy 
water. That done he arose up and passed on, 
with all that assembly before him, singing, unto 
St. Mary's church, where he standing at the 
high altar, turning himself to the people, gave 
them his benediction and clean remission. And 
then they conducted him from thence unto a 
house called the Checker, where he lay and 
kept his house as long as he abode in the town ; 
going immediately to his naked bed, because he 
was somewhat troubled with sickness in his 
passage upon the seas. 



CARDINAL WOLSEY. 153 

That night, unto this place of the Checker, 
resorted to him Mons. du Biez, captain of 
Boulogne, with a number of gallant gentlemen, 
who dined with him ; and after some consulta- 
tion with the cardinal, he with the rest of the 
gentlemen departed again to Boulogne. Thus 
the cardinal was daily visited with one or other 
of the French nobility. 

Then when all his train and his carriages were 
landed at Calais, and every thing prepared in a 
readiness for his journey, he called before him 
all his noblemen and gentlemen into his privy 
chamber ; where they being assembled, [he] 
said unto them in this wise in effect : "I have 
called you hither to this intent, to declare unto 
you, that I considering the diligence that ye 
minister unto me, and the good will that I bear 
you again for the same, intending to remember 
your diligent service hereafter, in place where 
ye shall receive condign thanks and rewards. 
And also I would show you further what au- 
thority I have received directly from the king's 
highness ; and to instruct you somewhat of the 
nature of the French men ; and then to inform 
you what reverence ye shall use unto me for 
the high honour of the king's majesty, and also 
how ye shall entertain the French men, when- 
soever ye shall meet at any time. First, ye 
shall imderstaud that the king's majesty, upon 



154 THE LIFE OF 

certain weighty considerations, hath for the 
more advancement of his royal dignity, as- 
signed me in this journey to be his Ueutenant- 
general ; and what reverence belongeth to the 
same I will tell you. That for my part I must, 
by virtue of my commission of lieutenantship, 
assume and take upon me, in all honours and 
degrees, to have all such service and reve- 
rence as to his highness' presence is meet and 
due : and nothing thereof to be neglected or 
omitted by me that to his royal estate is ap- 
purtenant. And for my part ye shall see me 
that I will not omit one jot thereof. Therefore, 
because ye shall not be ignorant in that behalf, 
is one of the special causes of this your assem- 
bly, willing and commanding you as ye entend 
my favour not to forget the same in time and 
place, but every of you do observe this informa- 
tion and instruction as ye will at my return 
avoid the king's indignation, but to obtain his 
highness' thanks, the which I will further for you 
as ye shall deserve. 

" Now to the point of the Frenchmen's nature, 
ye shall understand that their disposition is 
such, that they will be at the first meeting as 
familiar with you as they had been acquainted 
with you long before, and commune with you 
in the French tongue as though ye understood 
every word they spake : therefore in like man- 



CARDINAL WOLSEY. 155 

uer, be ye as familial- with them again as they 
be with you. If they speak to you in the 
French tongue, speak you to them in the Enghsh 
tongue ; for if you understand not them, they 
shall no more understand you." And my lord 
speaking merrily to one of the gentlemen there, 
being a Welshman, " Rice," quoth he, " speak 
thou Welsh to him, and I am well assured that 
thy Welsh shall be more diffuse 3 to him than his 
French shall be to thee." And then quoth he 
again to us all, " let all your entertainment and 
behaviour be according to all gentleness and 
humanity, that it may be reported, after your 
departure from thence, that ye be gentlemen of 
right good behaviour, and of much gentleness, 
and that ye be men that know your duty to your 
sovereign lord, and to your master, allowing 



3 Cavendish uses this word again in his poems : . 

" Wherin was found a certyn defuse clause 
Wrested by craft to a male intente." p. 139. 

See Fox's Acts, &c. p. 1769: 

" Cook. Then answere me. What sayest thou to the blessed 
sacrament of the altar ? Tell me : 

" Jackson, I answered ; it is a diffuse question, to aske me at the 
first dash, you promising to deliver me." See also p. 1574. "Dif- 
fuse and difficult." 

It appears to have been used in the sense of obscure, but difficult 
is the reading of Grove's edition. I find (/j^u.fcrf explained by Cot- 
grave " diffus, espars, obscuke." And in a Latin Greek and 
English Lexicon by R. Hutton, printed at London by H. Bynno- 
man, 1.583, the Latin adverb, obscure, is interpreted " darkely, ob- 
scurely, 1)UFL'SEL\." 



156 THE LIFE OF 

much your great reverence. Thus shall ye not 
only obtain to yourselves great commendation 
and praise for the same, but also advance the 
honour of your prince and country. Now go 
your ways admonished of all these points, and 
prepare yourselves against to-morrow, for then 
we intend, God willing, to set forward." And 
thus, we being by him instructed and informed, 
departed to our lodgings, making all things in a 
readiness against the next day to advance forth 
with my lord. 

The next morrow, being Mary Magdalen's 
day, all things being furnished, my Lord Car- 
dinal rode out of Calais with such a number of 
black velvet coats as hath not been seen with an 
ambassador. All the spears of Calais, Guines, 
and Hammes, were there attending upon him in 
that journey, in black velvet coats, and many 
great and massy chains of gold were worn there. 

Thus passed he forth with three gentlemen 
in a rank, which occupied the length of three 
quarters of a mile or more, having all his accus- 
tomed and glorious furniture carried before him, 
as I before have rehearsed, except the broad 
seal, the which was left with Doctor Taylor, in 
Calais, then Master of the Rolls, until his return 4. 

4 The great seal could not be carried out of the king's dominions 
without violating the law ; letters patent were passed to enable Dr. 
Taylor to hold it in his absence. 



CARDINAL WOLSEY. 157 

Passing thus on his way, and being scant a mile 
of his journey, it began to rain so vehemently 
that I liave not seen the Uke for the time ; that 
endured until we came to Boulogne ; and or we 
came to Sandyngfeld, tlie Cardinal of Loraine, a 
goodly young gentleman, encountered my lord, 
and received him with great reverence and joy ; 
and so passed forth together, until they came to 
Sandyngfeld, which is a place of religion, standing 
between the French, English, and the Emperor's 
dominions, being neuter, holding of neither of 
them. And being come thither, met with him 
there Le Countie Brion, Captain of Picardy, 
with a great number of men of arms, as Stradiots 
and Arbenois ^ with others standing in array, in 
a great piece of oats, all in harness, upon light 
horses, passing with my lord, as it were in a wing, 
all his journey through Picardy ; for my lord 
somewhat doubted the emperor, lest he would 
lay an ambush to betray him ; for which cause 



5 Stradiots and Arbenois. These were light armed cavalry, said 
by Guicciardini to have been Greek mercenaries in the service of 
Venice, retaining their Greek name arparuoTon. Arbenois is Alba- 
nians, Albanois, Fr. The following passage from Nicot Thresor 
de la Langue Fra?i^oise, ed. 1606. Jot. will fully explain this: 

" A present on apelle en particulier Albanois ces hommes de 
cheval armez a la legere, autrement dit Stratiote, ou Stradiots (par 
la consonne moyenne), qui portent les chapeaux A haute tcstitre, 
desquels on sc scrt pour chcvaux k-gcrs, qui vicnncnt dudit pays 
d'Albanic, dont les Papes scscrvcnt encore de cc temps csgarnisons 
de plusieurs villes du Saint siege, Alhani, otim Epirotw." 



158 THE LIFE OF 

the French king commanded them to await upon 
my lord for the assurance of his person out of 
the danger of his enemies. Thus rode he ac- 
companied until he came to the town of Bou- 
logne, where he was encountered within a mile 
thereof, with the worshipfullest citizens of the 
town, having among them a learned man, that 
made to him an oration in Latin ; unto the 
which my lord made answer semblably in Latin. 
And that done. Monsieur du Biez, Captain of 
Boulogne, with the retinue there of gentlemen, 
met him on horseback ; which conveyed him 
into the to^vn with all this assembly, until he 
came to the abbey gate, where he lighted and 
went directly into the church, and made his 
prayers before the image of our Lady, to whom 
he made his offering. And that done, he gave 
there his blessing to the people, with certain 
days of pardon 6. Then went he into the abbey 



^ In like manner, we saw, a little above, that at Calais he gave 
" benediction and pardon." From a letter to the cardinal, from 
Humfrey Monmouth, confined in the Tower on suspicion of heresy, 
we may gather what notion was entertained, even by comparatively 
enlightened men, of the efficacy of these pardons. " If I had 
broken most part of the Ten Commandments of God, being penitent 
and confessed (I should be forgiven) by reason of certain pardons 
that I have, the which my company and I had graunted, whan we 
were at Rome, going to Jerusalem, of the holy father the pope, a 
poena et a culpa, for certain times in the year : and that, I trust in 
God, I received at Easter last past. Furthermore I received, when 
your grace was last at Pawles, I trust in God, your pardonof a/3£E«a 



CAHDIVAL WOLSEY. 159 

wliere he was lodged, and his train were lodged 
in the high and basse towns. 

The next morning, after he heard mass, he 
rode unto Montreu'il sur la mer, where he was 
encountered in like case as he was tlie day before, 
with the worshipfullest of the town, all in one 
livery, having one learned that made an oration 
before him in Latin, whom he answered in like 
manner in Latin ; and as he entered in to the 
town, there was a canopy of silk embroidered 
with the letters and hat that was on the servants 
coats, borne over him [by] the persons of most 
estimation within the town. And when he was 
alighted his footmen seized the same as a fee 
due to their office. Now was there made divers 
pageants for joy of his coming, who was called 
there, and in all other places within the realm of 
France as he travelled, Le Cardinal Pac'tjique ; 
and in Latin Cardinalis Pacificus. [He] was 
accompanied all that night with divers worthy 
gentlemen of the country there about 7. 

et a culpa ; the which I believe verily, if I had done never so great 
offences, being penitent and confessed, and axing forgiveness, that 
I should have forgiveness." Stn/pe's Ecclesiast. Blemor. vol. i. p. 
248. Appendix. The cardinal had also a bull granted by Pope 
Leo Xth. A. D. 1518. to give in certain cases and conditions plenary 
remission from all sins. Fiddca, p. 48. Appendix. W. 

7 Among other distinguished honours conferred by Francis upon 
the Cardinal was the singular privilege of pardoning and releasing 
prisoners and delinquents confined in the towns through which he 
passed, in the same manner as the king himself was used to do : 
the only culprits excluded from the power of pardon given him by 
this patent were those guilty of the most capital crimes. 



160 THE LIFE OF 

The next day he rode toward Abbeville, 
where he was encountered with divers gentle- 
men of the town and country, and so conveyed 
unto the town, where he was most honourably 
received with pageants of divers kinds, wittily 
and costly invented, standing in every corner of 
the streets as he rode through the town ; having 
a like canopy borne over him, being of more 
richer sort than the other at Montreuil, or at 
Boulogne was ; they brought him to his lodging, 
which was, as it seemed, a very fair house newly 
built with brick. At which house King Louis 
married my Lady Mary, King Henry the Vlllth 
sister ; which was after married to the Duke of 
Suffolk, Charles Brandon. And being within, 
it was in manner of a gallery, yet notwithstand- 
ing it was very necessary. In this house my 
lord remained eight or ten days ; to whom 
resorted, daily, divers of the council of France, 
feasting them, and other noble men, and gen- 
tlemen that accompanied the council, both at 
dinners and suppers. 

Then when the time came that he should 
depart from thence, he rode to a castle beyond 
the waters of Somme, called Pincquigny Cas- 
tle, adjoining unto the said water, standing upon 
a great rock or hill, within the which was a 
goodly college of priests ; the situation whereof 
was most like unto the castle of Windsor in 
England ; and there he wa« received with a 



CARDINAL WOLSEY. l6l 

solemn procession, conveying him first into the 
church, and after unto his lodging within the 
castle. At this castle King Edward the Fourth 
met with the French king, upon the bridge that 
goeth over the water of Somme, as ye may 
read in the chronicles of England. 

When my lord was settled within his lodging, 
it was reported unto me that the French king 
should come that day into Amiens, which was 
within six English miles of Pincquigny Castle ; 
and being desirous to see his first coming into 
the town, [I] axed license and took with me 
one or two gentlemen of my lord's, and rode 
incontinent thither, as well to provide me of a 
necessary lodging as to see the king. And 
when we came thither, being but strangers, [we] 
took up our inn (for the time) at the sign of the 
Angel, directly against the west door of the 
cathedral church de notre Dame Salute Marie. 
And after we had dined there, tariying until 
three or four of the clock, expecting the king's 
coming, in came Madame Regent, the king's 
mother, riding in a very rich chariot ; and in 
the same with her was her daughter, the Queen 
of Navarre, furnished with a hundred ladies and 
gentlewomen or more following, riding upon 
white palfreys ; over and besides divers other 
ladies and gentlewomen that rode some in rich 
chariots, and some in horse litters ; who lighted 



16^ THE LIFE OF 

at the west door with all this train, accompanied 
with many other noblemen and gentlemen be- 
sides her guard, which was not small in num- 
ber. Then, within two hours after, the king 
came into the town with a great shot of guns 
and divers pageants, made for the nonce at the 
king's hien venue ; having about his person both 
before him and behind him, besides the won- 
derful number of noblemen and gentlemen, three 
great guards diversely apparelled. The Jirst was 
of Soutches^ and Burgonyons, with guns and 
havresacks. The second was of Frenchmen, 
some with bows and arrows, and some with 
bills. The third guard was pour le corps, which 
was of tall Scots, much more comelier persons 
than all the rest. The French guard and the 
Scots had all one livery, which was rich coats of 
fine white cloth, with a guard of silver bullion 
embroidered an handful broad. The king came 
riding upon a goodly genet, and lighted at the 
west door of the said church, and so [was] con- 
veyed into the church up to the high altar, where 
he made his prayers upon his knees, and [was] 
then conveyed into the bishop's palace, where 
he was lodged, and also his mother. 

The next morning I rode again to Pincquigny 



* i. e. Switzers. Cavendish revels in his subsequent description 
of the tall Scots who formed the French king's body guard. 



CARDINAL WOLSEY. l63 

to attend upon my lord, at whicli time my lord was 
ready to take his mule towards Amiens ; and pass- 
ing on his journey thitherward, he was encoun- 
tered from place to place with divers noble and 
worthy personages, making to him divers orations 
in Latin, to which he made answer again extem- 
pore ; at whose excellent learning and pregnant 
wit they wondered very much. Then was word 
brought my lord that the king was coming to 
encounter him ; with that, he having none other 
shift, was compelled to alight in an old chapel that 
stood by the high way, and there newly apparelled 
him into more richer apparel ; and then mounted 
upon a new mule very richly trapped, with a 
footcloth and traps of crimson velvet upon vel- 
vet, purled with gold, and fringed about with 
a deep fringe of gold very costly, his stirrups 
of silver and gilt, the bosses and cheeks of his 
bridle of the same^. And by that time that 
he was mounted again after this most gor- 



9 Whose mule if it should be sold 
So gayly trapped with velvet and gold 
And given to us for our schare, 
I durst ensure the one thing 
As for a competent lyvynge 
This seven yeare we should not care. 

Roy's Satire. 
In the picture of the Champs de drap d'or, which has been 
engraved by the Society of Antiquaries, the cardinal appears 
mounted on a richly caparisoned mule. 

M 2 



164 THE LIFE OF 

geous sort, the king was come very near, 
within less than a quarter of a mile English, 
mustering upon an hill side, his guard stand- 
ing in array along the same, expecting my 
lord's coming ; to whom my lord made as much 
haste as conveniently it became him ; until he 
came within a pair of butt lengths, and there 
he staid awhile. The king perceiving that, stood 
still ; and having two worthy gentlemen young 
and lusty [with him], both brethren to the 
Duke of Lorraine, and to the Cardinal of Lor- 
raine ; whereof one of them was called Monsieur 
de Guise, and the other Monsieur Vaudemont : 
they were both apparelled like the king, in pur- 
ple velvet lined with cloth of silver, and their 
coats cut, the king caused Monsieur Vaudemont 
to issue from him, and to ride unto my lord to 
know the cause of his tracting. [This mon- 
sieur] rode upon a fair courser, taking his 
race in a full gallop, even until he came unto 
my lord; and there caused his horse to come 
aloft once or twice so nigh my lord's mule, that 
he was in doubt of his horse ; and with that he 
lighted from his courser, and doing his message 
to my lord with humble reverence ; which done, 
he mounted again, and caused his horse to do 
the same at his departing as he did before, and 
so repaired again to the king; and, after his 
answer made, the king advanced forward. That 



CARDINAL WOLSEY. 



16.' 



seeing my lord did the like, and in the mid way 
they met, embracing each other on horseback, 
with most amiable countenance entertaining each 
other right nobly. Then drew into the place 
all noblemen and gentlemen on both sides, with 
wonderful cheer made one to another, as they 
had been of an old acquaintance. The prease 
was such and [so] thick, that divers had their 
legs hurt with horses. Then the king's officers 
cried ^^ Mar die, mar die ^ devant^ allex, devant" 
And the king, and my Lord Cardinal on his 
right hand, rode together to Amiens, every 
English gentleman accompanied with another 
of France. The train of French and English 
endured two long miles, that is to say from 
the place of their encounter unto Amiens ; 
where they were very nobly received with shot 
of guns and costly pageants, until the king had 
brought my lord to his lodging, and there de- 
parted asunder for that night, the king being 
lodged in the bishop's palace. The next day 
after dinner, my lord with a great train of no- 
blemen and gentlemen of England, rode unto 
the king's court ; at which time the king kept 
his bed, being somewhat diseased, yet notwith- 
standing my lord came into his bedchamber, 
where sat on the one side of his bed his mo- 
ther. Madam Regent, and on the other side the 
Cardinal of Lorraine, with divers oilier noble- 



166 



THE LIFE OF 



men of France. And after a short communica- 
tion, and drinking of a cup of wine with the 
king's mother, my lord departed again to his 
lodging, accompanied with divers gentlemen 
and noblemen of France, who supped with him. 
Thus continued the king and my lord in Amiens 
the space of two weeks and more, consulting ^ 
and feasting each other divers times. [And in 
the feast of the Assumption of our Lady, my 
lord rose betimes and went to the cathedral 



' A previous negotiation of a singular nature had been begun, 
for the Bishop of Bath writes to the cardinal in March, 1527, that 
" Francis is very desirous to have the Princess Mary, and to have 
her delivered into his hands as soon as the peace is concluded. 
Our king pretends her non age, and will have all, pension, &c., 
concluded first. The Queen Regent is earnest also for the present 
marriage : Saying there is no danger, for she herself was married 
at xi. And for this match there might be a device to satisfy both 
sides, saying the princess will be well toward xii by August. 'At 
that time both princes should meet at Calais with a small com- 
pany and charge, there her son, after the marriage solemnized, 
might abide himself for an hour or less with my Lady Princess ; 
she said the king her son was a man of honour and discretion, and 
would use no violence, especially the father and mother being so 
nigh ; meaning, that conatus ad copulam cum ilia, quce est proxima 
pubertati, prudentia supplente cetatem, should make every thing 
sure that neither party should now vary. So the king her son 
might be assured of his wife, and King Henry carry back his 
daughter till she should be accounted more able, &c. This over- 
ture our ambassadors think very strange." Fiddes Collections, 
p. 176. The Bishop of Bath returned into England soon after the 
cardinal went on his mission, to relate to Henry the course adopted 
by the cardinal in treating with Francis, and also to explain to him 
certain devices concerning his own secret matters. Mr. Master's 
Collections. 



CARDINAL WOLSEY. I67 

church de notre Dame^ and there before my 
Lady Regent and the Queen of Navarre, in 
our Lady Chapel, he said his service and 
mass ; and after mass, he himself ministered the 
sacrament unto my Lady Regent and to the 
Queen of Navarre. And that done, the king- 
resorted unto the church, and was conveyed 
into a rich travers at the high altar ; and di- 
rectly against him, on the other side of the 
altar, sat my Lord Cardinal in another rich 
travers 2, three gressiss higher than the king's. 
And at the altar, before them both, a bishop 
sang high mass, and at the fraction of the host 
the same bishop divided the sacrament between 
the king and the cardinal, for the performance 
of the peace concluded between them ; which 
mass was sung solemnly by the king's chapel, 
having among them cornets and sackbuts. 
And after mass was done the trumpeters blew 
in the roodeloff^ until the king was past in- 
ward to his lodging out of the church. And 
at his coming in to the bishop's palace, where 

" Skinner explains this word, a curtain. It evidently signifies 
here an enclosed or divided space or seat, decorated with rich 
draperies or curtains. In another place we have a traverse of 
sarsenet, which confirms Skinner's explanation. 

3 Crises, grecses, or steps, for it was spelt various ways according 
to the caprice of the writer, from the Latin gressus. 

* The roodelof't was the place where the cross stood ; it was ge- 
nerally placed over the passage out of the church into tlic chancxl. 



168 



THE LIFE OF 



he intended to dine with my Lord Cardinal, 
there sat, within a cloister, about two hundred 
persons diseased with the king's evil, upon 
their knees. And the king, or ever he went to 
dinner, provised every of them with rubbing 
and blessing them with his bare hands, being 
bare headed all the while ; after whom followed 
his almoner distributing of money unto the per- 
sons diseased. And that done he said certain 
prayers over them, and then washed his hands, 
and so came up into his chamber to dinner, 
where as my lord dined with him s.] 

Then it was determined that the king and my 
lord should remove out of Amiens, and so they 
did, to a town or city called Compeigne, which 
was more than twenty English miles from 
thence ; unto which town I was sent to pre- 
pare my lord's lodging. And as I rode on 
my journey, being upon a Friday, my horse 
chanced to cast a shoe in a little village, where 
stood a fair castle. And as it chanced there 
dwelt a smith, to whom I commanded my ser- 
vant to carry my horse to shoe, and standing 
by him while my horse was a shoeing, there 
came to me one of the servants of the castle, 
perceiving me to be the cardinal's servant and 



' The passage within brackets is not to be found in any of the 
more recent MSS., nor in Dr. Wordsworth's edition. 



CARDINAL WOLSEY. l69 

an Englishman, who required me to go with 
liim into the castle to my lord his master, whom 
he thought would be very glad of my coming 
and company. Whose request I granted, be- 
cause that I was always desirous to see and be 
acquainted with strangers, in especial with men 
in honour and authority, so I went with him ; 
who conducted me unto the castle, and being 
entered in the first ward, the watchmen of 
that ward, being very honest tall men, came 
and saluted me most reverently, and knowing 
the cause of my coming, desired me to stay a 
little while until they had advertised my lord 
their master of my being there ; and so I did. 
And incontinent the lord of the castle came 
out to me, who was called Monsieur Crequi, a 
nobleman born, and very nigh of blood to King 
Louis, the last king that reigned before this King 
Francis. And at his first coming he embraced 
me, saying that I was right heartily welcome, 
and thanked me that I so gently would visit 
him and his castle, saying furthermore that he 
was preparing to encounter the king and my 
lord, to desire them most humbly the next day 
to take his castle in their way, if he could so 
intreat them. And true it is that he was ready 
to ride in a coat of velvet with a pair of velvet 
arming shoes on his feet, and a pair of gilt 
spurs on his heels. Then he took me by the 



170 THE LIFE OF 

hand, and most gently led me into his castle, 
through another ward. And being once entered 
into the base court of the castle, I saw all his 
family and household servants standing in goodly 
order, in black coats and gowns, like mourners, 
who led me into the hall, which was hanged 
with hand-guns, as thick as one could hang by 
another upon the walls ; and in the hall stood 
an hawk's perch, whereon stood three or four 
fair goshawks. Then went we into the parlour, 
which was hanged with fine old arras, and being 
there but a while, communing together of my 
lord of Suffolk, how he was there to have be- 
sieged the same, his servants brought to him 
bread and wine of divers sorts, whereof he 
caused me to drink. And after, " I will," quoth 
he, " show you the strength of my house, how 
hard it would have been for my Lord of Suffolk 
to have won it." Then led he me upon the 
walls, which were very strong, more than fifteen 
foot thick, and well garnished with great bat- 
tery pieces of ordnance ready charged to [be] 
shot off against the king and my lord's coming. 
When he had showed me all the walls and 
bulwarks about the castle, he descended from 
the walls, and came down into a fair inner 
court, where his genet stood for to mount upon, 
with twelve other genets, the most fairest and 
best that ever I saw, and in especial his own, 



CARDINAL WOLSEY. I7I 

which was a mare genet, he showed me that he 
might have liad for her four hundred crowns. 
But upon the other twelve genets were mounted 
twelve goodly young gentlemen, called pages 
of honour ; all bare headed in coats of cloth 
of gold, and black velvet cloaks, and on their 
legs boots of red Spanish leather, and spurs 
parcel gilt. 

Then he took his leave of me, commanding 
his steward and other his gentlemen to attend 
upon me, and conduct me unto my lady his 
wife, to dinner. And that done he mounted 
upon his genet, and took his journey forth out 
of his castle. Then the steward, with the rest 
of the gentlemen, led me up into a tower in the 
gatehouse, where then my lady their mistress 
lay, for the time that the king and my lord 
should tarry there. 

I being in a fair great dining chamber, where 
the table was covered for dinner, and there I 
attended my lady's coming ; and after she came 
thither out of her own chamber, she received me 
most gently, like [one of] noble estate, having a 
train of twelve gentlewomen. And when she 
with her train came all out, she said to me, " For 
as much," quoth she, *' as ye be an Englishman, 
whose custom is in your country to kiss'' all ladies 

" Erasmus, in a letter to Aleander, dwells with delight upon 
this custom : 

" Quanquam si Britannia; dotes satih pcrnodscb Fauste, me tu 



172 THE LIFE OF 

and gentlewomen without offence, and although 
it be not so here in this realm, yet will I be so 
bold to kiss you, and so shall all my maidens." 
By means whereof I kissed my lady and all her 
women. Then went she to her dinner, being 
as nobly served as I have seen any of her 
estate here in England, having all the dinner 
time with me pleasant communication, which 
was of the usage and behaviour of our gentle- 
women and gentlemen of England, and com- 
mended much the behaviour of them, right excel- 
lently ; for she was with the king at Ardres, 
when the great encounter and meeting was be- 
tween the French king and the king our sovereign 
lord : at which time she was, both for her person 
and goodly haviour, appointed to company with 
the ladies of England. To be short, after dinner, 

alatis pedibuSj hue accurreres; et si podagra tua non sineret, 
Daedalum te fieri optares. Nam ut e pluribus unum quiddam 
attingam. Sunt hie nymphs divinis vultibus^ blandae, faciles, et 
quas tu tuis Camsenis facile anteponas. Est pr(Bterea mos nunquam 
satis laudatus : Sive quo venias omnium oscuHs exciperis ; sive 
diseedas aliquo, oscuhs demitteris : redis ? redduntur suavia ; ve- 
nitur ad te? propinantur suavia: diseeditur abs te? dividuntur 
basia : oceuritur alieubi ? basiatur afFatira : denique, quoeunque te 
moveas, suaviorum plena sunt omnia. Quae si tu, Fauste, gus- 
tasses semel quam sint moUicula, quam fragrantia, profecto cupe- 
res non decennium solum, ut Solon feeit, sed ad mortem usque in 
Anglia peregrinari." Erasmi Epistol. p. 315, edit. 1642. " It 
becometh nat therefore the persones religious to folowe the maner 
of secular persones, that in theyr congresses and commune metyngs 
or departyng done use to kysse, take hands, or such other touch- 
ings, that good religious persones shuldc utterly avoyde." Whyt- 
ford's Pi/pe of Perfection, fol. 213. b. a. d. 1532. JK 



CARDINAL WOLSEY. 173 

pausing a little, I took my leave of her, and so 
departed and rode on my journey. 

By reason of my tracting of time in Chastel 
de Crequi^, I was constrained that night to lye 
in a town by the way, called Montdidier, the 
suburbs whereof my Lord of Suffolk had lately 
burned. And in the next morning I took my 
journey and came to Compeigne upon the Satur- 
day, then being there the market day ; and at 
my first coming I took my inn in the midst of the 
market-place, and being there set at dinner in a 
fair chamber, that had a window looking into 
the street, I heard a great rumour and clattering 
of bills. With that I looked out into the street, 
and there I espied where the officers of the 
town brought a prisoner to execution, whose 
head they strake off with a sword. And when 
I demanded the cause of his offence, it was an- 
swered me, that it was for killing of a red deer 
in the forest thereby, the punishment whereof 
is but death. Incontinent they had set up the 
poor man's head upon a pole in the market- 
place, between the stag's horns ; and his quar- 
ters in four parts of the forest. 



7 This name is spelt Creak ij and Crykkij in the autograph MS. 
In Wordsworth's edition it is Crokey. Grove has it Crockh/, and 
two of the MSS. copies Crokir. I know not whether I have di- 
vined the true orthography, but tlicrc was a noble family of this 
name at the time. 



174 THE LIFE OF 

Thus went I about to prepare my lord's 
lodging, and to see it furnished, which was 
there in the great castle of the town, whereof 
to my lord was assigned the one half, and the 
other half was reserved for the king ; and in 
like wise there was a long gallery divided be- 
tween them, wherein was made in the midst 
thereof a strong wall with a door and window, 
and there the king and my lord would many 
times meet at the same window, and secretly 
talk together, and divers times they would go 
the one to the other, at the said door. 

Now was there lodged also Madame Regent, 
the king's mother, and all her train of ladies 
and gentlewomen. Unto which place the Chan- 
cellor of France came (a very witty man), with 
all the king's grave counsellors, who took great 
pains daily in consultation. In so much as I 
heard my Lord Cardinal fall out with the Chan- 
cellor, laying unto his charge, that he went 
about to hinder the league which my said Lord 
Cardinal had before his coming concluded be- 
tween the king our sovereign lord and the 
French king his master ; insomuch that my lord 
stomached the matter very stoutly, and told 
him, " That it should not lie in his power to 
dissolve the amicable fidelity between them. 
And if his master the king being there present 
forsook his promise and followed his counsel. 



CARDINAL WOLSEY. 175 

he should not fail after his return into England 
to feel the smart, and what a thing it is to break 
promise with the King of England, whereof 
he should be well assured." And therewithal 
he arose and went into his own lodging, won- 
drously offended. So that his stout counte- 
nance, and bold words, made them all in doubt 
how to pacify his displeasure, and revoke him 
again to the council, who was then departed in 
a fury. There was sending, there was coming, 
there was also intreating, and there was gi'eat 
submission made to him, to reduce him to his 
former friendly communication ; who would in 
no wise relent until Madame Regent came her- 
self, who handled the matter so discreetly and 
wittily, that she reconciled him to his former 
communication. And by that means he brought 
other matters to pass, that before he could not 
attain, nor cause the council to grant ; which 
was more for fear, than for any affection to the 
matter, he had the heads of all the council 
so under his girdle that he might rule them 
all there as well as he might the council of 
England. 

The next morning after this conflict, he rose 
early, about four of the clock, sitting down to 
write letters into England unto the king, com- 
manding one of his chaplains to prepare him to 
mass, insomuch that his said chaplain stood 



176 THE LIFE OF 

revested until four of the clock at afternoon ; 
aU which season my lord never rose once to 

, ne yet to eat any meat, but continually 

wrote his letters, with his own hands, having 
all that time his nightcap and keverchief on his 
head. And about the hour of four of the clock, 
at afternoon, he made an end of writing, con- 
manding one Christopher Gunner, the king's 
servant, to prepare him without delay to ride 
empost into England with his letters, whom he 
dispatched away or ever he drank. And that 
done, he went to mass, and said his other 
divine service with his chaplain, as he was 
accustomed to do ; and then went straight into 
a garden ; and after he had walked the space 
of an hour or more, and said his evensongs, he 
went to dinner and supper all at once; and 
making a small repast, he went to his bed, to 
take his rest for that night. 

The next night following he caused a great 
supper to be provided for Madame Regent, 
and the Queen of Navarre, and other great 
estates of ladies and noble women. 

There was also Madame Rene^, one of the 



'• Evensong. " Which persons for their waiting befoir noon hath 
licence at afternoon to go about their own business from the saide 
noon to iij of the clocke that evensong begin." 

Northumberland Hovsehold Book, p. 310. 



CARDINAL WOLSEY. 177 

daughters of King Louis, whose sister, (lately 
dead), King Francis had married. These sis- 
ters were, by their mother, inheritrices of 
the Duchy of Britanny, and for as much as 
the king had married one of the sisters, by 
whom he had the moiety of the said duchy, 
and to attain the other moiety, and so to be 
lord of the whole, he kept the said Lady Rene6 
without marriage, intending that, she having 
none issue, the whole duchy might descend to 
him, or to his succession, after her death, for 
want of issue of her body. 

But now let us return again to the supper or 
rather a solemn banquet, where all these noble 
persons were highly feasted ; and in the midst 
of their triumph, the French king, with the king 
of Navarre, came suddenly in upon them un- 
known, who took their places at the nether end 
of the table. There was not only plenty of fine 
meats, but also much mirth and solace, as well 
in communication, as in instruments of music 
set forth with my lord's minstrels, who played 
there so cunningly and dulce all that night, that 
the king took therein great pleasure, insomuch 
that he desired my lord to lend them unto him 
the next night. And after supper and banquet 
finished, the ladies and gentlewomen went to 
dancing ; among whom one Madame Fountaine, 

N 



178 THE LIFE OF 

a maid, had the prize. And thus passed they 
the night in pleasant mirth and joy. 

The next day the king took my lord's min- 
strels and rode unto a nobleman's house, where 
was some goodly image that he had avowed a 
pilgrimage unto, to perform his devotion. When 
he came there, he danced, and others with him, 
the most part of that night ; my lord's minstrels 
played there so excellently all that night, that 
the shalme — 9, (whether it were with extreme 
labour of blowing, or with poisoning, as some 
judged, because they were more commended 
and accepted with the king than his own, I can- 
not tell), but he that played upon the shalme, an 
excellent man in that art, died within a day or 
twain after. 

Then the king returned again unto Com- 
peigne, and caused a wild boar to be lodged for 
him in the forest there ; whither my lord rode 



9 The shalme, or shawm, was a wind instrument hke a haut- 
boy, with a swelHng protuberance in the middle. In " Comme- 
nius's Visible World," translated by Hoole, 1639, the Latin word 
gingi-as is translated by shawn, and the form of the instrument is 
represented as below. Its proper name appears to have been 
shawme ; it is derived from the Teutonic. Drayton mentions it as 
shrill-toned : ' E'en from the shrillest shaum unto the cornamute.' 

Polyolbion v. iv. p. 376. 



CARDINAL WOLSEY. 179 

with the king to the hunting of the wild swine 
within a toil ; where the Lady Regent stood in 
chariots or wagons, looking on the toil, on the 
outside thereof, accompanied with many ladies 
and damosels ; among whom my lord stood by 
the Lady Regent, to regard and behold the 
pastime and manner of hunting. There was 
within the toil divers goodly gentlemen with tlie 
king, ready garnished to this high enterprise 
and dangerous hunting of the perilous wild 
swine. The king being in his doublet and 
hosen only, without any other garments, all of 
sheep's colour cloth ; his hosen, from the knee 
upward, was altogether thrummed with silk very 
thick of the same colour : having in a slip a fair 
brace of great white greyhounds, armed, as the 
manner is to arm their greyhounds from the 
violence of the boar's tusks. And all the rest of 
the king's gentlemen, being appointed to hunt 
this boar, were likewise in their doublets and 
hosen, holding each of them in their hands a 
very sharp boar's spear. 

The king being thus furnished, commanded 
the hunts to uncouch the boar, and that every 
other person should go to a standing, among 
whom were divers gentlemen and yeomen of 
England ; and incontinent the boar issued out 
of his den, chased with an hound into the plain, 
and being there, stalked a while gazing u])on 



180 THE LIFE OF 

the people, and incontinent being forced by the 
hound, he espied a Httle bush standing upon a 
bank over a ditch, under the which lay two lusty 
gentlemen of France, and thither fled the boar, 
to defend him, thrusting his head snuffing into 
the same bush where these two gentlemen lay, 
who fled with such speed as men do from the 
danger of death. Then was the boar by vio- 
lence and pursuit of the hounds and the hunts 
driven from thence, and ran straight to one of 
my lord's footmen, a very comely person, and 
an hardy, who held in his hand an English 
javelin, with the which he was fain to defend 
himself from the fierce assault of the boar, 
who foined at him continually with his great 
tusks, whereby he was compelled at the last 
to pitch his javelin in the ground between 
him and the boar, the which the boar brake 
with his force of foining. And with that 
the yeoman drew his sword, and stood at de- 
fence ; and with that the hunts came to the 
rescue, and put him once again to flight. With 
that he fled and ran to another young gentleman 
of England, called Master Ra^clifle, son and 
heir to the Lord Fitzwalter, and after i Earl of 



• Now, Wordsworth's edit. The passages within brackets which 
follow are not found in any other manuscript : a space almost 
always marking the deficiency of this relation, and the succeeding 
account of the libels of the French against the cardinal. 



CARDINAL WOLSEY. 181 

Sussex, who by chance had borrowed of a 
Frencli gentleman a fine boar spear, [very 
sharp, upon wliom, tlie boar being sore chafed, 
began to assault very eagerly, and the young 
gentleman deliverly avoided his strokes, and in 
turning about he struck the boar with such vio- 
lence (with the same spear that he had bor- 
rowed) upon the houghs, that he cut the sinews 
of both his legs at one stroke, that the boar was 
constrained to sit down upon his haunches and 
defend himself, for he could go no more ; this 
gentleman perceiving then his most advantage, 
thrust his spear into the boar under the shoulder 
up to the heart, and thus he slew the great boar. 
Wherefore among the noblemen of France it 
was reputed to be one of the noblest enter- 
prises that a man might do (as though he had 
slain a man of arms) ; and thus our Master 
Ratcliffe bare then away the prize of that feat of 
hunting, this dangerous and royal pastime, in 
killing of the wild boar, whose tusks the French- 
man doth most commonly doubt above all other 
dangers, as it seemed to us Englishmen then 
being present.] 

[In this time of my lord's being in France, 
over and besides his noble entertainment with 
the king and nobles, he sustained diverse dis- 
pleasures of the French slaves, that devised a 
certain book, which was set fbrtli in diverse 



182 THE LIFE OF 

articles upon the causes of my lord's being there : 
which should be, as they surmised, that my lord 
was come thither to conclude two marriages ; 
the one between the king our sovereign lord 
and Madame Rene6^ of whom I spake hereto- 
fore ; and the other between the then princess 
of England, (now being queen of this realm) my 
Lady Mary the king's daughter and the French 
king's second son, the Duke of Orleans, who is 
at this present king of France: with diverse 
other conclusions and agreements touching the 
same. Of this book many were imprinted and 
conveyed into England, unknown to my lord, 
[he] being then in France, to the great slander 
of the realm of England, and of my Lord Car- 
dinal. But whether they were devised of policy 
to pacify the mutterings of the people, which 



' Catherine Renee, one of the daughters of Louis the Twelfth. 
It does not seem that this exposition of the cardinal's views in re- 
gard to the union of Henry with this princess, in case of a divorce, 
were without foundation, for he persuaded himself that Henry's 
passion for Anne Boleyn would soon subside, and thought this 
alliance a sure mode of perpetuating the peace and union between 
the sovereigns. The other part of the assertion was proved true 
by the subsequent treaty, in which it was agreed that the Princess 
Mary should marry either Francis, or the Duke of Orleans ; the 
first if he should remain a widower until she was of sufficient age, 
the second if it seemed expedient that Francis should keep his 
faith to the emperor, and marry his sister Leonora, to whom he 
was contracted by the Treaty of Madrid. Hence the necessity of 
keeping these designs secret, and the cardinal's anger at their 
developement. 



CARDINAL WOLSEY. 183 

had diverse communications and imaginations 
of my lord's being there ; or whether [they] 
were devised of some maHcious person, as the 
dispositions of the common people are accus- 
tomed to do, upon such secret consultations, I 
know not ; but whatsoever the occasion or 
cause was, the author hath set forth such 
books. This I am well assured, that after 
my lord was thereof well advertised, and had 
perused one of the said books, he was not a little 
offended, and assembled all the privy council of 
France together, to whom he spake his mind 
thus ; saying, that it was not only a suspicion 
in them, but also a great rebuke and a defama- 
tion to the king's honour to see and know any 
such seditious untruths openly divulged and set 
forth by any malicious and subtle traitor of 
this realm ; saying furthermore, that if the like 
had been attempted within the realm of England, 
he doubted not but to see it punished according 
to the traitorous demeanour and deserts. Not- 
withstanding I saw but small redress s]. 

3 This passage stands in the ordinary MSS., and in Dr. Words- 
worth's edition, in the following abridged and confused manner. 
The transcribers of the MSS. appear to have been sensible that 
their copy was defective, for in several of them one or two blank 
leaves are here left. 

" Now shortly after there were divers malicious practices pre- 
tended against us by the French, who by their theft somewhat 
impaired us : whereupon one of them, being a man I was well 
acquainted with, maintained a seditious untruth, openly divulged. 



184 THE LIFE OF 

So this was one of the displeasures that the 
Frenchmen showed him, for all his pains and 
travail that he took for quaHfying of their king's 
ransom. 

Also another displeasure was this. There 
was no place where he was lodged after he 
entered the territory of France, but that he was 
robbed in his privy chamber, either of one thing 
or other ; and at Compeigne he lost his standish 
of silver, and gilt : and there it was espied, and 
the party taken, which was but a little boy of 
twelve or thirteen years of age, a ruffian's page 
of Paris, which haunted my lord's lodging with- 
out any suspicion, until he was taken lying under 
my lord's privy stairs ; upon which occasion he 
was apprehended and examined, and inconti- 
nent confessed all things that were missed, which 
he stole, and brought to his master the ruffian, 
who received the same, and procured him so to 
do. After the spial of this boy, my lord re- 
vealed the same unto the council, by means 
whereof the ruffian was apprehended, and set 
on the pillory, in the midst of the market-place ; 
a goodly recompense for such an heinous offence. 



and set forth by a subtle and traitorous subject of their realm, 
saying also that he doubted not, but the like had been attempted 
within the king of England his majesty's dominions ; but to see so 
open and manifest blasphemy to be openly punished, according to 
their traitorous deserts, notwithstanding I saw but small redress." 



CARDINAL WOLSEY. 185 

Also another displeasure was ; some lewd per- 
son, wliosoever it was, had engraved in the great 
chamber window where my lord lay, upon the 
leaning stone there, a cardinal's hat with a pair 
of gallows over it, in derision of my lord ; with 
divers other unkind demeanours, the which I 
leave here to write, they be matters so slan- 
derous. 

Thus passing divers days in consultation, 
expecting the return of Christopher Gunner, 
which was sent into England with letters unto 
the king, as it is rehearsed heretofore, by em- 
post, who at last returned again with other 
letters ; upon receipt whereof my lord made 
haste to return into England. 

In the morning that my lord should depart 
and remove, being then at mass in his closet, 
he consecrated the Chancellor of France a car- 
dinal, and put upon him the habit due to that 
order ; and then took his journey into England- 
ward, making such necessary expedition that 
he came to Guisnes, where he was nobly re- 
ceived of my Lord Sands, then captain there, 
with all the retinue thereof. And from thence 
he rode to Calais, where he tarried the ship- 
ping of his stuff, horses, and train ; and in the 
meantime he established there a mart, to be 
kept for all nations ; but how long it endured, 
and in what sort it was used, I know not, for I 



186 THE LIFE OF 

never heard of any great good that it did, or 
of any worthy assembly there of merchants or 
merchandise, that was brought thither for the 
furniture of so weighty a matter. 

These things finished, and others for the 
weal of the town, he took shipping and arrived 
at Dover, from whence he rode to the king, 
being then in his progress at Sir Harry Wyatfs 
house, in Kent, [it was] supposed among us 
that he should be joyfully received at his home 
coming, as well of the king as of all other 
noblemen : but we were deceived in our expecta- 
tion. Notwithstanding he went, immediately 
after his coming, to the king, with whom he 
had long talk, and continued there in the court 
two or three days ; and then returned to his 
house at Westminster, where he remained until 
Michaelmas term, which was within a fortnight 
after, and using his room of Chancellorship, as 
he was wont to do. 

At which time he caused an assembly to be 
made in the Star Chamber, of all the noblemen, 
judges, and justices of the peace of every shire 
that were at that present in Westminster Hall, 
and there made to them a long oration, de- 
claring unto them the cause of his embassy into 
France, and of his proceeding there ; among 
the which he said, "he had concluded such an 
amity and friendship as never was heard of in 



CARDINAL WOLSEY. 187 

this realm in our time before, as well between 
the emperor and us, as between the French 
king and our sovereign lord, concluding a 
pei-petual peace, which shall be confirmed in 
writing, alternately, sealed with the broad seals 
of both the realms graved in fine gold ; affirming 
furthermore, that the king should receive yearly 
his tribute, by that name, for the Duchy of 
Normandy, with all other costs which he hath 
sustained in the wars. And where there was a 
restraint made in France of the French queen*s 
dower, whom the Duke of Suffolk had married, 
for divers years during the wars, it is fully con- 
cluded, that she shall not only receive the same 
yearly again, but also the arrearages being un- 
paid during the restraint. All which things 
shall be perfected at the coming of the great 
embassy out of France : in the which shall be 
a great number of noblemen and gentlemen for 
the conclusion of the same, as hath not been 
seen repair hither out of one realm in an em- 
bassy. This peace thus concluded, there shall 
be such an amity between gentlemen of each 
realm, and intercourse of merchants with mer- 
chandise, that it shall seem to all men the ter- 
ritories to be but one monarchy. Gentlemen 
may travel quietly from one country to another 
for their recreation and pastime ; and merchants, 
being arrived in each country, shall be assured 



188 THE LIFE OF 

to travel about their affairs in peace and tran- 
quillity : so that this realm shall joy and prosper 
for ever. Wherefore it shall be well done for 
all true Englishmen to advance and set forth 
this perpetual peace, both in countenance and 
gesture, with such entertainment as it may be 
a just occasion unto the Frenchmen to accept 
the same in good part, and also to use you with 
the semblable, and make of the same a noble 
report in their countries. 

"Now, good my lords and gentlemen, I most 
entirely require you in the king's behalf, that 
ye will show yourselves herein very loving and 
obedient subjects, wherein the king will much 
rejoice [at] your towardness, and give to every 
man his princely thanks for such liberality and 
gentleness, as ye or any of you shall minister 
unto them." And here he ended his persua- 
sion, and so departed into the dining chamber, 
and dined among the lords of the council. 

This great embassy 4, long looked for, was 
now come over [with a great retinue], which were 
in number above fourscore persons, of the most 
noblest and worthiest gentlemen in all the court 
of France, who were right honourably received 



* The twentieth of October, a. d. 1327. The embassadors were 
the Marechal de Montmorency, the Bishop of Bayonne, the Pre- 
sident of Rouen, and Monsieur d'Huraieres. 



CARDINAL WOLSEY. 189 

from place to place after their arrival, and so 
conveyed through London unto the bishop's 
palace in Paul's Churchyard, where they were 
lodged. To whom divers noblemen resorted 
and gave them divers goodly presents ; and in 
especial the Mayor and city of London, as 
wine, sugar, wax, capons, wild fowl, beefs, 
muttons, and other necessaries in great abun- 
dance, for the expenses of their house. Then 
the next Sunday after their resort to London, 
they repaired to the court at Greenwich, and 
there, by the king's majesty, most highly re- 
ceived and entertained. They had a special 
commission to create and stall the king's high- 
ness in the Royal order of France ; for which 
purpose they brought with them a collar of fine 
gold of the order, with a Michael hanging thereat, 
and robes to the same appurtenant, the which 
was wondrous costly and comely, of purple 
velvet, richly embroidered ; I saw the king in 
all this apparel and habit, passing through the 
chamber of presence unto his closet ; and after- 
ward in the same habit at mass beneath in the 
chapel. And to gratify the French king with 
like honour, [he] sent incontinent unto [him] the 
like order of England by a nobleman (the Earl of 
Wiltshire), purposely for that intent, to create 
him one of the same order of England, accom- 
panied with Garter the Herald, with all robes, gar- 



190 THE LIFE OF 

ter, and other habiliments to the same belonging ; 
as costly in every degree as the other was of the 
French king's, the which was done before the 
return of the great embassy. 

And for the performance of this noble and 
perpetual peace, it was concluded and deter- 
mined that a solemn mass should be sung in 
the cathedral church of PauFs by the cardinal ; 
against which time there was prepared a gallery 
made from the west door of the church of Paul's 
[through the body of the same], unto the quire 
door, railed on every side, upon the which stood 
[vessels] full of perfumes burning. Then the king 
and my Lord Cardinal, and all the Frenchmen, 
with all other noblemen and gentlemen, were 
conveyed upon this gallery unto the high altar 
into the traverses ; then my Lord Cardinal pre- 
pared himself to mass, associated with twenty- 
four mitres of bishops and abbots, attending 
upon him, and to serve him, in such ceremonies 
as to him, by virtue of his legatine prerogative, 
were due. 

And after the last agnus ^ the king rose out 
of his travers and kneeled upon a cushion and 



5 The book of ceremonies (compiled under the influence of the 
Bishops Gardiner and Tonstall, and in opposition to that of Cran- 
mer, about the year 1540, and designed to retain in the church 
many operose and superstitious rites, by setting them off with the 
aids of a philosophical and subtle interpretation), describing in 



CARDINAL WOLSEY. IQI 

carpet at the high altar ; and the Grand Master 
of France, the chief ambassador, that repre- 
sented the king his master, kneeled by the king's 
majesty, between whom my lord divided the 
sacrament, as a firm oath and assurance of this 
perpetual peace. That done, the king resorted 
again to his travers, and the Grand Master in 
like wise to his. This mass finished, which was 
sung with the king's chapel and the quire of 
Paul's, my Lord Cardinal took the instrument 
of this perpetual peace and amity, and read the 
same openly before the king and the assembly, 
both of English and French, to the which the king 
subscribed with his own hand, and the Grand Mas- 
ter, for the French king, in like wise, the which 
was sealed with seals of fine gold, engraven, 
and delivered to each other as their firm deeds ; 
and all this done and finished they departed. 

The king rode home to the cardinal's house at 
Westminster, to dinner, with whom dined all 



succession the different parts of the Canon of the Mass, proceeds 
thus, " Then saith the priest thrice, Agmis Dei, qui tollis peccata 
mundi, S^c. advertising us of Ihrcc effects of Christ's passion ; 
whereof i\\e first is, deliverance from the misery of sin ; the second 
is from pain of everlasting damnation ; wherefore he saith twice 
Miserere nobis, that is to say. Have mercy on us ; and the t/u'rd 
effect is, giving of everlasting peace, consisting in the glorious 
fruition of God." Strype's Ecclesiastical Memorials. Vol. i. p. 289. 
Records. See also Mirror of nur Lady. fol. 189, and Becon's 
Works. Vol. iii. fol. 4.9. a. d. 1.5G4 W. 



192 THE LIFE OF 

the Frenchmen, passing all day after in consulta- 
. tion in weighty matters, touching the conclusion 
of this peace and amity. That done, the king 
went again by water to Greenwich ; at whose 
departing it was determined by the king's device, 
that the French gentlemen should resort unto 
Richmond to hunt there, in every of the parks, 
and from thence to Hampton Court, and therein 
likewise to hunt, and there my Lord Cardinal 
to make for them a supper, and lodge them 
there that night ; and from thence they should 
ride to Windsor, and there to hunt, and after 
their return to London they should resort to the 
court, whereas the king would banquet them. 
And this perfectly determined, the king and 
the Frenchmen all departed. 

Then was there no more to do but to make 
provision at Hampton Court for this assembly 
against the day appointed. My Lord Cardinal 
called for his principal officers of his house, as 
his Steward, Comptroller, and the Clerks of his 
Kitchen, whom he commanded to prepare for 
this banquet at Hampton Court ; and neither to 
spare for expenses or travail, to make them such 
triumphant cheer, as they may not only won- 
der at it here, but also make a glorious report 
in their country, to the king's honour and [that] 
of this realm. His pleasure once known, to 
accomphsh his commandment they sent forth all 



CARDINAL WOLSEY. IQS 

the caterers, purveyors, and other persons, to 
prepare of the finest viands that they could get, 
other for money or friendship among my lord's 
friends. Also they sent for all the expertest 
cooks, besides my lord's, that they could get in 
all England, where they might be gotten, to serve 
to garnish this feast. 

The purveyors brought and sent in such plenty 
of costly provision, as ye would wonder at the 
same. The cooks wrought both night and day 
in divers subtleties and many crafty devices ; 
where lacked neither gold, silver, ne any other 
costly thing meet for the purpose. 

The yeomen and grooms of the wardi'obes 
were busied in hanging of the chambers with 
costly hangings, and furnishing the same with 
beds of silk, and other furniture apt for the same 
in every degree. Then my Lord Cardinal sent 
me, being gentleman usher, with two other of 
my fellows, to Hampton Court, to foresee all 
things touching our rooms, to be noblily gar- 
nished accordingly. Our pains were not small 
or light, but traveling daily from chamber to 
chamber. Then the carpenters, the joiners, the 
masons, the painters, and all other artificers ne- 
cessary to glorify the house and feast were set 
at work. There was carriage and re-carriage of 
plate, stuff, [and] other rich implements ; so that 
there was nothing lacking or to be imagined or 

o 



194 THE Li:fE OF 

devised for the purpose. There were also four- 
teen score beds provided and furnished with all 
manner of furniture to them belonging, too long 
particularly here to rehearse. But to all wise 
men it sufficeth to imagine, that knoweth what 
belongeth to the furniture of such triumphant 
feast or banquet. 

The day was come that to the Frenchmen was 
assigned, and they ready assembled at Hampton 
Court, something before the hour of their ap- 
pointment. Wherefore the officers caused them 
to ride to Hanworth, a place and park of the 
king's, within two or three miles, there to hunt 
and spend the time until night. At which time 
they returned again to Hampton Court, and 
every of them conveyed to his chamber severally, 
having in them great fires and wine ready to 
refresh them, remaining there until their supper 
was ready, and the chambers where they should 
sup were ordered in due form. The first wait- 
ing-chamber was hanged with fine arras, and so 
was all the rest, one better than an other, fur- 
nished with tall yeomen. There was set tables 
round about the chamber, banquet-wise, all co- 
vered with fine cloths of diaper. A cupboard 
of plate, parcel gilt, having also in the same 
chamber, to give the more light, four plates of 
silver, set with lights upon them, a great fire in 
the chimney. 



CARDINAL WOLSEY. 195 

The next chamber, being the chamber of pre- 
sence, hanged with very rich arras, wherein 
was a gorgeous and a precious cloth of estate 
hanged up, replenished with many goodly gentle- 
men ready to serve. The boards were set as the 
other boards were in the other chamber before, 
save that the liigh table was set and removed 
beneath the cloth of estate, towards the midst 
of the chamber, covered with fine linen cloths of 
damask work, sweetly perfumed. There was a 
cupboard made, for the time, in length, of the 
breadth of the nether end of the same chamber, 
six desks highe, full of gilt plate, very sumptuous, 
and of the newest fashions ; and upon the ne- 
thermost desk garnished all with plate of clean 
gold, having two great candlesticks of silver 
and gilt, most curiously wrought, the workman- 
ship whereof, with the silver, cost three hundred 
marks, and lights of wax as big as torches burn- 



^ These cupboards or rather sideboards of plate were necessary 
appendages to every splendid entertainment. The form of them 
somewhat resembled some of the old cumbrous cabinets to be found 
still in ancient houses on the continent. There was a succession of 
step-like stages, or desks, as Cavendish calls them, upon which the 
plate was placed. The reader will have a better conception than 
description can convey of this piece of antient ostentation, from a 
print in a very curious work by Julio Bello, entitled Laurea Aus- 
TRiACA : Francof. 1G27, folio, p. 6K). Where our King James I. 
is represented entertaining the Spanish ambassadors in 1623. 

() '2 



196 THE LIFE OF 

ing upon the same. This cupboard was barred 
in round about that no man might come nigh it ; 
for there was none of the same plate occupied 
or stirred during this feast, for there was suf- 
ficient besides. The plates that hung on the walls 
to give light in the chamber were of silver and 
gilt, with lights burning in them, a great fire in 
the chimney, and all other things necessary for 
the furniture of so noble a feast. 

Now was all things in a readiness and supper 
time at hand. My lord's officers caused the 
trumpets to blow to warn to supper, and the 
said officers went right discreetly in due order 
and conducted these noble personages from their 
chambers unto the chamber of presence where 
they should sup. And they, being there, caused 
them to sit down ; their service was brought up 
in such order and abundance, both costly and 
full of subtleties, with such a pleasant noise of 
divers instruments of music, that the French- 
men, as it seemed, were rapt into a heavenly 
paradise. 

Ye must understand that my lord was not 
there, ne yet come, but they being merry and 
pleasant with their fare, devising and wondering 
upon the subtleties. Before the second course, 
my Lord Cardinal came in among them, booted 
and spurred, all suddenly, and bade them joro- 



CARDINAL ^V0L6EY. 19? 

facel ; at whose coming they would have risen 
and given place with much joy. Whom my 
lord commanded to sit still, and keep their 
rooms ; and straightways, being not shifted of 
his riding apparel, called for a chair, and sat 
himself down in the midst of the table, laughing 
and being as merry as ever I saw him in all my 
life. Anon came up the second course, with so 
many dishes, subtleties, and curious devices, 
which were above a hundi'ed in number, of so 
goodly proportion and costly, that I suppose the 
Frenchmen never saw the like. The wonder was 
no less than it was worthy indeed. There were 
castles with images in the same ; Paul's church 
and steeple, in proportion for the quantity as well 
counterfeited as the painter should have painted 
it upon a cloth or wall. There were beasts, birds, 
fowls of cUvers kinds, and personages, most lively 
made and counterfeit in dishes ; some fighting, 
as it were with swords, some with guns and 
crossbows, some vaulting and leaping j some 
dancing with ladies, some in complete harness, 



'' Proface. An expression of welcome equivalent to Much good 
may it do you ! Mr. Steevens conjectured it to be from the old 
French expression, ' Bon prou Iciir face,' which is to be found in 
C'otgrave in voce Prou. This was a happy conjecture of Mr. Stee- 
vens, for Mr. Nares has pointed out its true origin in the old 
Norman-French or Romance language: ' Proufack souhait qui 
vcvit dire, bicn vous fasse, jir(>/iciai.' Roquefort. Glossaire de la 
Laiiiiue Romane. 



198 THE LIFE OF 

justing with spears, and with many more de- 
vices than I am able with my wit [to] describe. 
Among all, one I noted : there was a chess board 
subtilely made of spiced plate, with men to the 
same ; and for the good proportion, because 
that Frenchmen be very expert in that play, my 
lord gave the same to a gentleman of France, 
commanding that a case should be made for the 
same in all haste, to preserve it from perishing 
in the conveyance thereof into his country. 
Then my lord took a bowl of gold, which was 
esteemed of the value of five hundred marks, 
filled with hypocras, whereof there was plenty, 
putting off his cap, said, " I drink to the 
king my sovereign lord and master, and to the 
king your master," and therewith drank a good 
draught. And when he had done, he desired 
the Grand Master to pledge him cup and all, the 
which cup he gave him ; and so caused all the 
other lords and gentlemen in other cups to pledge 
these two royal princes. 

Then went cups merrily about, that many 
of the Frenchmen were fain to be led to their 
beds. Then went my lord, leaving them sitting 
still, into his privy chamber to shift him ; and 
making there a very short supper, or rather a 
small repast, returned again among them into 
the chamber of presence, using them so nobly, 
with so loving and familiar countenance and 



CARDINAL WOLSEY. 199 

entertainment, that they could not commend him 
too much. 

And whilst they were in communication and 
other pastimes, all their liveries were served to 
their chambers. Every chamber had a bason 
and a ewer of silver, some gilt, and some parcel 
gilt ; and some two great pots of silver, in like 
manner, and one pot at the least with wine and 
beer, a bowl or goblet, and a silver pot to drink 
beer in ; a silver candlestick or two, with both 
white lights and yellow lights [of] three sizes of 
wax ; and a staff torch ; a fine manchet, and a 
cheat loaf of bread. Thus was every chamber 
furnished throughout the house, and yet the 
two cupboards in the two banqueting chambers 
not once touched. Then being past midnight, as 
time served they were conveyed to their lodg- 
ings, to take their rest for that night. In the 
morning of the next day, (not early), they rose 
and heard mass, and dined with my lord, and so 
departed towards Windsor, and there hunted, 
delighting much of the castle and college, and 
in the Order of the Garter. They being de- 
parted from Hampton Court, my lord returned 
again to Westminster, because it was in the midst 
of the term. 

It is not to be doubted, but that the king was 
privy of all this worthy feast, [and] intended far 
to exceed the same ; (whom I leave until the 



200 THE LIFE OF 

return of the Frenchmen), who gave a special 
commandment to all his officers to devise a far 
[more] sumptuous banquet for the strangers, 
otherwise than they had at Hampton Court; 
which was not neglected, but most speedily put 
in execution with great diligence. 

After the return of these strangers from 
Windsor, which place with the goodly order 
thereof they much commended, the day ap- 
proached that they were invited to the court 
at Greenwich ; where first they dined, and after 
long consultation of the sagest with our counsel- 
lors, and dancing of the rest and other pastimes, 
the time of supper came on. Then was the ban- 
queting chamber in the tiltyard furnished for the 
entertainment of these strangers, to the which 
place they were conveyed by the noblest persons 
being then in the court, where they both supped 
and banqueted. But to describe th^dSsfo^ the 
subtleties, the many strange devices* arid orSfer 
in the same, I do both lack wit in my gross old 
head, and cunning in my bowels to declare the 
wonderful and curious imaginations in the same 
invented and devised. Yet this ye shall under- 
stand : that although it was at Hampton Court 
marvellous sumptuous, yet did this banquet far 
exceed the same, as fine gold doth silver in 
weight and value ; and for my part 1 must needs 
confess, (which saw them both), that I never 



CARDINAL WOLSEY. 201 

saw the like, or read in any story or chronicle of 
any such feast. In the midst of this banquet, 
there was tourneying at the barriers (even in the 
chamber), with lusty gentlemen in gorgeous 
complete harness, on foot ; then was there the 
like on horseback ; and after all this there was 
the most goodliest disguising or interlude, made 
in Latin and French, whose apparel was of such 
exceeding riches, that it passeth my capacity to 
expound. 

This done, then came in such a number of the 
fair ladies and gentlewomen that bare any bruit 
or fame of beauty in all this realm, in the most 
richest apparel, and devised in divers goodly 
fashions that all the cunningest tailors could 
devise to shape or cut, to set forth their beauty, 
gesture, and the goodly proportion of their bo- 
dies : who seemed to all men more angelic than 
earthlv,^»f^tii^^s] made of flesh and bone ; — 
surely to m^,^ simple soul, it seemed inestimable 
to be described, and so I think it was to other 
of a more higher judgment, — with whom these 
gentlemen of France danced until another mask 
came in of noble gentlemen, who danced and 
masked with these fair ladies and gentlewomen, 
every man as his fantasy served [him]. This 
done, and the maskers departed, there came in 
another mask of ladies so gorgeously apparelled 
in costly garments, that I dare not presume to 



S02 THE LIFE OF 

take upon me to make thereof any declaration, 
lest I should rather deface than beautify them, 
therefore I leave it untouched. These lady 
maskers took each of them a French gentleman 
to dance and mask with them. Ye shall un- 
derstand that these lady maskers spake good 
French, which delighted much these gentlemen, 
to hear these ladies speak to them in their own 
tongue. 

Thus was this night occupied and consumed 
from five of the clock until two or three after 
midnight ; at which time it was convenient for 
all estates to draw to their rest. And thus every 
man departed whither they had most relief. 
Then as nothing either health, wealth, or plea- 
sure, can always endure, so ended this triumph- 
ant banquet, the which in the morning seemed 
to all the beholders but as a fantastical dream. 

After all this solemn cheer, at a day appointed 
they prepared them to return with bag and bag- 
gage. Then, as to the office of all honourable 
persons doth appertain, [they] resorted in good 
order to the court, to take their leave of the 
king, and other noblemen, then being there : to 
whom the king committed his princely com- 
mendations to the king their master, and thanked 
them of their pains and travel, and after long 
communication with the most honourable of the 
embassy, he bad them adieu. 



CARDINAL WOLSEY. 203 

[They were] assigned by the council to repair 
to my Lord Cardinal for to receive the king's 
most noble reward, wherefore they repaired to 
my lord, and taking of their leave, they received 
every man the king's reward after this sort ; every 
honourable person in estimation had most com- 
monly plate, to the value of three or four hun- 
di'ed pounds, and some more, and some less, 
besides other great gifts received at the king's 
hands before ; as rich gowns, horses, or goodly 
geldings of great value and goodness ; and some 
had weighty chains of fine gold, with divers other 
gifts, which I cannot now call to my remem- 
brance ; but this I know, that the least of them 
all had a sum of crowns of gold : the worst page 
among them had twenty crowns for his part : 
and thus they (nobly rewarded), departed. And 
my lord, after humble commendations had to the 
French king, bad them adieu. And the next day 
they conveyed all their stuff and furniture unto 
the seaside, accompanied with lusty young gen- 
tlemen of England : but what praise or com- 
mendation they made in their country at theii' 
return, in good faith, I cannot tell you, for I never 
heard any thing thereof. 

Then began other matters to brew and take 
place that occupied all men's heads with divers 
imaginations, whose stomachs were therewith full 
filled without any perfect digestion. The long 



204 THE LIFE OF 

hid and secret love between the king and Mis- 
tress Anne Boleyn began to break out into every 
man's ears. The matter was then by the king 
disclosed to my Lord Cardinal ; whose persua- 
sion to the contrary, made to the king upon his 
knees, could not effect : the king was so amo- 
rously affectionate, that will bare place, and high 
discretion banished for the time^. My lord, 
provoked by the king to declare his wise opi- 
nion in this matter for the furtherance of his 
desired affects, who thought it not meet for 
him alone to wade too far, to give his hasty 
judgment or advice in so weighty a matter, 
desired of the king license to ask counsel of 
men of ancient study, and of famous learning, 
both in the laws divine and civil. That ob- 
tained, he by his legatine authority sent out 
his commission unto all the bishops of this realm, 
and for other that were either exactly learned 
in any of the said laws, or else had in any esti- 
mation for their prudent counsel and judgment 
in princely affairs of long experience. 

Then assembled these prelates before my 
Lord Cardinal at his place in Westminster, with 



8 ' Mademoiselle de Boulan a la fin y est venue, et I'a le Roy 
logee en fort beau logis, qu'il a fait bien accoustrer tout aupres 
du sien, et luy est la cour faicte ordinairement tous les jours plus 
grosse que de long temps ne fut faicte a la Royne.' 

Lettre de I'Evesquc de Bayonne. 



CARDINAL WOLSEY. 205 

many other famous and notable clerks of both 
the Universities (Oxford and Cambridge), and 
also divers out of colleges and cathedral churches 
of this realm, renowned and allowed learned 
and of witty discretion in the determination of 
doubtful questions. Then was the matter of the 
king's case debated, reasoned and argued ; con- 
sulting from day to day, and time to time ; that 
it was to men learned a goodly hearing ; but in 
conclusion, it seemed me, by the departing of 
the ancient fathers of the laws, that they de- 
parted with one judgment contrary to the ex- 
pectation of the principal parties. I heard 
the opinion of some of the most famous persons, 
among that sort, report, that the king's case was 
so obscure and doubtful for any learned man to 
discuss ; the points therein were so dark to be 
credited that it was very hard to have any true 
understanding or intelligence. And therefore 
they departed without any resolution or judgment. 
Then in this assembly of bishops it was thought 
most expedient that the king should first send 
out his commissioners into all the Universities 
of Christendom, as well here in England as in 
foreign countries and regions, to have among 
them his grace's case argued substantially, and 
to bring with them from thence the very de- 
finition of their opinions in the same, under the 
seals of every several University. Thus was their 



^06 THE LIFE OF 

determination for this time ; and thereupon 
agreed, that commissioners were incontinent 
appointed and sent forth about this matter into 
several Universities, as some to Oxford, some 
to Cambridge, some to Louvain, some to Paris, 
some to Orleans, some to Bologna, and some 
to Padua, and some to other. Although these 
commissioners had the travail, yet was the 
charges the king's ; the which was no small 
sums of money, and all went out of the king's 
coffers into foreign regions. For as I heard it 
reported of credible persons (as it seemed in- 
deed), that besides the great charges of the 
commissioners, there was inestimable sums of 
money given to the famous clerks to choke them, 
and in especial to such as had the governance 
and custody of their Universities' seals 9. Inso- 
much as they agreed, not only in opinions, but 
also obtained of them the Universities' seals, (the 
which obtained), they returned home again fur- 
nished for their purpose. At whose return 
there was no small joy made of the principal 



9 It is a question of fact which has been warmly debated, whe- 
ther the suffrages of the Universities in Henry's favour were pur- 
chased by money. It does not seem very necessary that we should 
enter into this dispute. But any one who wishes so to do, may 
consult Burnet's Hist, of the Reformation, Vol. iii. p. 401, Appen- 
dix. Harmers Specimen of Errors, p. 7. Fiddes's Life of Wolsey, 
p. 420. Poli Epistoloe, Vol. i. p. 238. a. n. 1744. W. 



CARDINAL WOLSEY. 207 

parties. Insomuch as the commissioners were 
not only ever after in great estimation, but also 
most liberally advanced and rewarded, far be- 
yond theii- worthy deserts. Notwithstanding, 
they prospered, and the matter went still for- 
ward, having then (as they thought), a sure 
foundation to ground them upon. 

These proceedings being once declared to my 
Lord Cardinal, [he] sent again for all the bishops, 
whom he made privy of the expedition of the 
commissioners ; and for the very proof thereof 
he showed them the opinions of the several 
Universities in writing under the Universities 
seals 1. These matters being thus brought to 
pass, they went again to consultation how these 
matters should be ordered to the purpose. It 
was tlien thought good and concluded, by the 
advice of them all, that the king should (to avoid 
all ambiguities), send unto the pope a legation 
with the instruments, declaring the opinions of 



' Eight of these determinations soon after were printed in one 
volume, with a long Discourse in support of the judgments con- 
tained in them, under the following title : " The Determinations 
of the moste famous and moste excellent Universities of Italy 
and Fraunce, that it is so unlcfull for a man to marry his Brother's 
Wyfe, that the Pope hath no power to dispence therewith : im- 
printed by Thomas Berthelet the viith day of Novembre, 1531." 
They were also published in Latin : in which language they are 
exhibited by Bishop Burnet in his Hist, offhc Reformation, Vol. 
i. book ii. No. 34. Records. W. 



208 THE LIFE OF 

the Universities under their seals ; to the which 
it was thought good that all these prelates in 
this assembly should join with the king in this 
legation, making intercession and suit to the 
pope for advice and judgment in this great and 
weighty matter ; and if the pope would not 
directly consent to the same request, that then 
the ambassadors should farther require of him 
a commission to be directed (under lead 2), to 
establish a court judicial in England, (** **** 
*****) directed to my Lord Cardinal, and unto 
the Cardinal Campeggio, (who was then Bishop 
of Bath), although he was a stranger, which 
[bishopric] the king gave him at such time as he 
was the pope's ambassador here in England), to 
hear and determine according to the just judg- 
ment of their conscience. The which after long 
and great suit, they obtained of the pope his 
commission. This done and achieved, they 
made return into England, making report unto 
the king of their expedition, trusting that his 
grace's pleasure and purpose should now 'be 
presently brought to pass, considering the estate 
of the judges, who were the Cardinal of England 
and Campeggio, being both his highness's sub- 
jects in effect. 



"^ i. e. the Bulla or Papal seal. The passage marked with 
contains three words which I could not decipher. 



CARDINAL WOLSEY. ^20}) 

Long was tlic desire, and greater was the 
hope on all sides, expecting the coming of the 
legation and commission from Rome, yet at length 
it came. And after the arrival of the Legate 
Campeggio with his solemn commission in 
England, he being sore vexed with the gout, 
was constrained by force thereof to make a long 
journey or ever he came to London ; who should 
have been most solemnly received at Black- 
heath, and so with great triumph conveyed to 
London ; but his glory was such, that he would 
in nowise be entertained with any such pomp or 
vainglory, who suddenly came by water in a 
wherry to his own house without Temple Bar, 
called then Bath Place, which was furnished for 
him with all manner of stuff and implements of 
my lord's provision ; where he continued and 
lodged during his abode here in England. 

Then after some deliberation, his commission 
understood, read, and perceived it was by the 
council determined, that the king, and the queen 
his wife, should be lodged at Bridewell. And 
that in the Black Friars a certain place should 
be appointed where as the king and the queen 
might most conveniently repair to the court, 
there to be erected and kept for the disputation 
and determination of the king's case, where as 
these two legates sat in judgment as notable 



210 THE LIFE OF 

judges ; before whom the king and the queen were 
duly cited and summoned to appear. Which 
was the strangest and newest sight and device 
that ever was read or heard in any history or 
chronicle in any region ; that a king and a queen 
[should] be convented and constrained by pro- 
cess compellatory to appear in any court as 
common persons, within their own realm or 
dominion, to abide the judgment and decrees of 
their own subjects, having the royal diadem 
and prerogative thereof. Is it not a world to 
consider the desire of wilful princes, when they 
fully be bent and inclined to fulfil their volup- 
tuous appetites, against the which no reasonable 
persuasions will suffice ; little or nothing weigh- 
ing or regarding the dangerous sequel that doth 
ensue as well to themselves as to their realm 
and subjects. And above all things, there is no 
one thing that causeth them to be more wilful 
than carnal desire and voluptuous affection of 
foolish love. The experience is plain, in this 
case both manifest and evident, for what sur- 
mised inventions have been invented, what laws 
have been enacted, what noble and ancient mo- 
nasteries overthrown and defaced, what diver- 
sities of religious opinions have risen, what exe- 
cutions have been committed, how many famous 
and notable clerks have suffered death, what 



CAIfDTNAI. WOI.SEY. *21 1 

charitable foundations were perverted from the 
relief of the poor, unto profane uses, and what 
alterations of good and wholesome ancient laws 
and customs hath been caused by will and wilful 
desire of the prince, almost to the subversion and 
dissolution of this noble realm. All men may 
understand what hath chanced to this region ; 
the proof thereof hath taught all us English- 
men a common experience, the more is the pity, 
and is to all good men very lamentable to be 
considered. If eyes be not blind men may see, 
if ears be not stopped they may hear, and if pity 
be not exiled they may lament the sequel of 
this pernicious and inordinate carnal love. The 
plague whereof is not ceased (although this love 
lasted but a while), which our Lord quench ; 
and take from us his indignation ! Quia pecavi- 
mus cum patrihus nostris, et hijuste egimus, &f. 

Ye shall understand, as I said before, that 
there was a court erected in the Black Friars 
in London, where these two cardinals sat for 
judges. Now will I set you out the manner and 
order of the court there. First, there was a 
court placed with tables, benches, and bars, like 
a consistory, a place judicial (for the judges to 
sit on). There was also a cloth of estate under 
the which sat the king ; and the queen sat some 
distance beneath the king : under the judges* 
feet sat the officers of the court. The chief 

r 2 



212 THE LIFE OF 

scribe there was Dr. Stephens 3, (who was after 
Bishop of Winchester) j the apparitor was one 
Cooke, most commonly called Cooke of Win- 
chester. Then sat there within the said court, 
directly before the king and the judges, the 
Archbishop of Canterbury, Doctor Warham, 
and all the other bishops. Then at both the 
ends, with a bar made for them, the counsellors 
on both sides. The doctors for the king were 
Doctor Sampson, that was after Bishop of Chi- 
chester, and Doctor Bell, who after was Bishop 
of Worcester, with divers other. The proctors 
on the king's part were Doctor Peter, who was 
after made the king's chief secretary, and Doc- 
tor Tregonell, and divers other. 

Now on the other side stood the counsel for 
the queen. Doctor Fisher, Bishop of Rochester, 



3 Doctor Stephen Gardiner, afterwards Bishop of Winchester, 
at this time in great estimation with Wolsey. In letters and other 
documents of this period he is often called Doctor Stevens. Mr. 
Grainger in the third vol. of Bishop Burnet's Hist, of the Reforma- 
tion, p. 385, Appendix, intimates that this was a colloquial vulga- 
rism ; " vulgarly, as Stephen Gardiner was Mr. Stevyns, in ^Vol- 
sey's Letter." But it is questionable, I think, whether this is the 
true account of that name. The bishop himself, in his Declaration 
of his Articles against George Joye, a. d. 1546, fol. 3. b. of the 
4to edition, thus speaks of it, "& booke, wherein he wrote, how 
Doctor Stevens (by whiche name I was then called) had deceyved 
him." 

In Doctor Barnes' account of his examination before the bishops 
at Westminster, he calls Gardiner " Doctor Stephen then secre- 
tary." 



CARDINAL WOLSEY. '213 

and Doctor Standish, some time a Grey Friar, 
and tlien Bishop of St. Asapli in Wales, two 
notable clerks in divinity, and in especial the 
Bishop of Rochester, a very godly man and a 
devout person, who after suffered death at Tower 
Hill ; the which was greatly lamented through 
all the foreign Universities of Christendom. 
There was also another ancient doctor, called, 
as I remember, Doctor Ridley, a very small 
person in stature, but surely a great and an ex- 
cellent clerk in divinity. 

The court being thus furnished and ordered, 
the judges commanded the crier to proclaim 
silence ; then was the judges' commission, w^hich 
they had of the pope, published and read openly 
before all the audience there assembled. That 
done, the crier called the king, by the name of 
*' King Henry of England, come into the court, 
&c." With that the king answered and said, 
"Here, my lords!" Then he called also the 
queen, by the name of " Katherine Queen of 
England, come into the court, &c. ;" who made 
no answer to the same, but rose up incontinent 
out of her chair, where as she sat, and because 
she could not come directly to the king for the 
distance which severed them, she took pain to 
go about unto the king, kneeling down at his feet 
in the sight of all the court and assembly, to 



214 THE LIFE OF 

whom she said 4 in effect, in broken English, as 
foUoweth : 

" Sir," quoth she, *' I beseech you for all the 
loves that hath been between us, and for the 
love of God, let me have justice and right, take 
of me some pity and compassion, for I am a 
poor woman and a stranger born out of your 
dominion, I have here no assured friend, and 



* The reader may consult Bxirnet's Hist, of the Reformation^ 
Vol. iii. p. 46 — 48. The bishop affirms positively that the king 
did not appear personally^ but by proxy ; and that the queen with- 
drew after reading a protest against the competency of her judges. 
"And from this it is clear (says the bishop), that the speeches that 
the historians have made for them are all plain falsities." It is 
easy to contradict the confident affirmation of the historian upon 
the authority of a document published by himself in his Records,, 
i. 78. It is a letter from the king to his agents, where he says : 
" At which time both we and the queen appeared in person, and 
they minding to proceed further in the cause, the queen would no 
longer make her abode to hear what the judges would fully des- 
cern, but incontinently departed out of the court; wherefore she 
was thrice preconnisate, and called eftsoons to return and appear ; 
which she refusing to do, was denounced by the judges contumax, 
and a citation decerned for her appearance on Friday." Which is 
corroborated also by Fox's Acts, p. 958. Indeed the testimony 
for the personal appearance of the king before the cardinals is sur- 
prisingly powerful ; even though we do not go beyond Cavendish, 
and the other ordinary historians. But in addition to these. Dr. 
Wordsworth has produced the authority of William Thomas, 
Clerk of the Council in the reign of King Edward VI, a well in- 
formed writer; who, in a professed Apology for Henry VIII, 
extant in MS. in the Lambeth and some other libraries, speaking 
of this affair affirms, -'• that the Cardinal (Carapeggio) caused the 
king as a private party in person to appear before him, and the 
Lady Katharine both," F. 31. 



CARDINAL WOLSEY. ^15 

much less indifferent counsel ; I flee to you as 
to the head of justice within this realm. Alas! 
Sir, wherein have I offended you, or what occa- 
sion of displeasure ? Have I designed against 
your will and pleasure ; intending (as I per- 
ceive) to put me from you ? I take God and 
all the world to witness, that I have been to you 
a true humble and obedient wife, ever conform- 
able to your will and pleasure, that never said 
or did any thing to the contrary thereof, being 
always well pleased and contented with all things 
wherein you had any delight or dalliance, whe- 
ther it were in little or much, I never grudged 
in word or countenance, or showed a visage 
or spark of discontentation. I loved all those 
whom ye loved only for your sake, whether I had 
cause or no ; and whether they were my friends 
or my enemies. This twenty years I have been 
your true wife or more, and by me ye have had 
divers children, although it hath pleased God to 
call them out of this world, which hath been no 
default in me. 

" And when ye had me at the first, I take 
God to be my judge, I was a true maid without 
touch of man ; and whether it be true or no, I 
put it to your conscience. If there be any just 
cause by the law that ye can allege against me, 
either of dishonesty or any other impediment to 
banish and put me from you, I am well content 



216 THE LIFE OF 

to depart to my great shame and dishonour; 
and if there be none, then here I most lowly 
beseech you let me remain in my former estate, 
and receive justice at your hands. The king 
your father was in the time of his reign of such 
estimation thorough the world for his excellent 
wisdom, that he was accounted and called of all 
men the second Solomon ; and my father Fer- 
dinand, King of Spain, who was esteemed to 
be one of the wittiest princes that reigned in 
Spain, many years before, were both wise and 
excellent kings in wisdom and princely beha- 
viour. It is not therefore to be doubted, but 
that they elected and gathered as wise counsel- 
lors about them as to their high discretions was 
thought meet. Also, as me seemeth, there was 
in those days as wise, as well learned men, and 
men of as good judgment as be at this present 
in both realms, who thought then the marriage 
between you and me good and lawful. There- 
fore it is a wonder to hear what new inventions 
are now invented against me, that never intended 
but honesty. And cause me to stand to the 
order and judgment of this new court, wherein 
ye may do me much wrong, if ye intend any 
cruelty ; for ye may condemn me for lack of suf- 
ficient answer, having no indifferent counsel, but 
such as be assigned me, with whose wisdom and 
learning I am not acquainted. Ye must consider 



CARDINAL WOLSEY. 217 

that they cannot be indifferent counsellors for 
my part wliich be your subjects, and taken out 
of your own council before, wherein they be 
made privy, and dare not, for your displeasure, 
disobey your will and intent, being once made 
privy thereto. Therefore I most humbly require 
you, in the way of charity, and for the love of 
God, who is the just judge, to spare me the 
extremity of this new court, until I may be ad- 
vertised what way and order my friends in Spain 
will advise me to take. And if ye will not ex- 
tend to me so much indifferent favour, your 
pleasure then be fulfilled, and to God I commit 
my cause^!" 

And with that she rose up, making a low 
courtesy to the king, and so departed from 
thence. [Many] supposed that she would have 
resorted again to her former place ; but she 
took her way straight out of the house, leaning 
(as she was wont always to do) upon the arm 
of her General Receiver, called Master Griffith. 
And the king being advertised of her departure, 

5 Hall has given a different report of this speech of the queen's, 
which he says was made in French, and translated by him, as well 
as he could, from notes taken by Cardinal Campeggio's secretary. 
In his version she accuses Wolsey with being the first mover of 
her troubles, and reproaches him, in bitter terms, of pride and 
voluptuousness : such harsh language could hardly deserve the 
praise ' jnodeste tavien cam lucutumfuissc,' given by Campeggio. 



^18 THE LIFE OF 

commanded the crier to call her again, who 
called her by the name of " Katherine Queen of 
England, come into the court, &c." With that 
quoth Master Griffith, " Madam^ ye he called 
again,'* " On, on," quoth she, " it maketh no 
matter, for it is no indifferent court for me, 
therefore I will not tarry. Go on your ways." 
And thus she departed out of that court, without 
any farther answer at that time, or at any other, 
nor would never appear at any other court 
after. 

The king perceiving that she was departed 
in such sort, calling to his grace's memory all 
her lament words that she had pronounced be- 
fore him and all the audience, said thus in effect : 
" For as much," quoth he, " as the queen is gone, 
I will, in her absence, declare unto you all my 
lords here presently assembled, she hath been 
to me as true, as obedient, and as conformable 
a wife as I could in my fantasy wish or desu'e. 
She hath all the virtuous qualities that ought to 
be in a woman of her dignity, or in any other of 
baser estate. Surely she is also a noble woman 
born, if nothing were in her, but only her con- 
ditions will well declare the same." With that 
quoth my Lord Cardinal, " Sir, I most humbly 
beseech your highness to declare me before all 
this audience, whether I have been the chief 



CARDINAL WOLSEY. 219 

inventor 6 or first mover of this matter unto your 
majesty ; for I am greatly suspected of all men 
herein." " My Lord Cardinal," quoth the king, 
*' I can well excuse you herein. Marry (quoth 
he), ye have been rather against me in attempt- 
ing or setting forth thereof. And to put you all 
out of doubt, I M^ill declare unto you the special 
cause that moved me hereunto ; it was a certain 
scrupulosity that pricked my conscience upon 
divers words that were spoken at a certain time 
by the Bishop of Bayonne, the French King's 
Ambassador 7, who had been here long upon the 
debating for the conclusion of a marriage to be 
concluded between the princess our daughter 
Mary, and the Duke of Orleans, the French 
king's second son. 

" And upon the resolution and determination 
thereof, he desired respite to advertise the king 
his master thereof, whether our daughter Mary 
should be legitimate, in respect of the marriage 
which was sometime between the queen here, 
and my brother the late Prince Arthur. These 
words were so conceived within my scrupulous 



" See Neve's Animadvei'sions on Phillips's Life of Cardinal Pole, 
p. 62. 

7 Nothing of this kind is to be found in the journal of tliis em- 
bassy, or in the letters of the bishop and his companions, which 
have been preserved, and many of which have been published by 
Lc Grand, Hisluirc du Divorce dc Henri Vltf, 



^20 THE LIFE OF 

conscience, that it bred a doubt within my 
breast, which doubt pricked, vexed, and trou- 
bled so my mind, and so disquieted me, that I 
was in great doubt of God's indignation ; which 
(as seemed me), appeared right well ; much the 
rather for that he hath not sent me any issue 
male ; for all such issue male as I have re- 
ceived of the queen died incontinent after 
they were born ; so that I doubt the punish- 
ment of God in that behalf. Thus being trou- 
bled in waves of a scrupulous conscience, and 
partly in despair of any issue male by her, it 
drave me at last to consider the estate of this 
realm, and the danger it stood in for lack of 
issue male to succeed me in this imperial dig- 
nity. I thought it good therefore in relief of 
the weighty burden of scrupulous conscience, 
and the quiet estate of this noble realm, to 
attempt the law therein, and whether I might 
take another wife in case that my first copula- 
tion with this gentlewoman were not lawful ; 
which I intend not for any carnal concupiscence, 
ne for any displeasure or mislike of the queen's 
person or age, with whom I could be as well 
content to continue during my life, if our mar- 
riage may stand with God's laws, as with any 
woman alive ; in which point consisteth all this 
doubt that we go now about to try by the learned 
wisdom and judgment of you our prelates and 



CARDINAL WOLSEY. 221 

pastors of tliis realm here assembled for that 
purpose ; to whose conscience and judgment I 
have committed the charge accorcUng to the 
which (God willing), we will be right well con- 
tented to submit ourself, to obey the same for 
our part. Wherein after I once perceived my 
conscience wounded with the doubtful case 
herein, I moved first this matter in confession 
to you, my Lord of Lincoln », my ghostly father. 
And for as muck as then yourself were in some 
doubt to give me counsel, moved me to ask 



8 " In a Manuscript Life of Sir Thomas More, written not many 
years after Longland's death, this account is given. ' I have heard 
Dr. Draycot, that was his (Longland's) chaplain and chancellor, 
say, that he once told the hishop what rumour ran upon him in 
that matter ; and desired to know of him the very truth. Who 
answered, that in very deed he did not break the matter after that 
sort, as is said : but the king brake the matter to him first ; and 
never left urging him until he had won him to give his consent. 
Of which his doings he did forethink himself, and repented after- 
ward.' MSS. Coll. Eman. Cantab." Baker's Notes on Burnet's 
Hist, of the Reformation : in Burnet, Vol. iii. p. 400, Appendix. 
The same Life is among the MSS. in the Lambeth Library, No. 
827, (see fol. 12), and, I have reason to think, was composed about 
the year 1556, and by Nicolas ILirpsfield. From these concurrent 
testimonies it should appear, that the charge which has been often 
urged against Wolsey, that it was through his intrigues that Long- 
land first suggested his scruples to the king, is unfounded. IF. 

"Wolsey was at the time loudly proclaimed as the instigator of 
the divorce, and though he denied it upon some occasions, he ad- 
mitted it on others ; but Cardinal Pole asserts that it was first 
suggested by certain divines whom Anne Boleyn sent to him for 
that purpose. It is remarkable that he says this when writing to 
the king, and would surely not have ventured to say so if he had 
not had good grounds for the assertion. 



^1% THE LIFE OF 

farther counsel of all you my lords ; wherein I 
moved you first my Lord of Canterbury, axing 
your license, (for as much [as] you were our 
metropolitan) to put this matter in question ; 
and so I did of all you my lords, to the which ye 
have all granted by writing under all your seals, 
the which I have here to be showed." " That 
is truth if it please your highness," quoth the 
Bishop of Canterbury, " I doubt not but all my 
brethren here present will affirm the same." 
" No, Sir, not I," quoth the Bishop of Roches- 
ter, " ye have not my consent thereto." " No ! 
ha' the 1" quoth the king, *' look here upon this, 
is not this your hand and seal?" and showed 
him the instrument with seals. " No forsooth, 
Sire," quoth the Bishop of Rochester, " it is 
not my hand nor seal 1" To that quoth the king 
to my Lord of Canterbury, " Sir, how say ye, 
is it not his hand and seal ?" " Yes, Sir," quoth 
my Lord of Canterbury. " That is not so," 
quoth the Bishop of Rochester, " for indeed you 
were in hand with me to have both my hand and 
seal, as other of my lords had already done ; 
but then I said to you, that I would never con- 
sent to no such act, for it were much against my 
conscience ; nor my hand and seal should never 
be seen at any such instrument, God willing, 
with much more matter touching the same com- 
munication between us." " You say truth," 



CARDINAL WOLSEY. 22.S 

quoth the Bishop of Canterbury, " such words 
ye said unto me ; but at the last ye were fully 
persuaded that I should for you subscribe your 
name, and put to a seal myself, and ye would 
allow the same." " All which words and mat- 
ter," quoth the Bishop of Rochester, " under 
your correction my lord, and supportation of 
this noble audience, tliere is no thing more 
untrue." "Well, well," quoth the king, "it 
shall make no matter ; we will not stand with 
you in argument herein, for you are but one 
man." And with that the court was adjourned 
until the next day of this session. 

The next court day the cardinals sat there 
again, at which time the counsel on both sides 
were there present. The king's counsel al- 
leged the marriage not good from the begin- 
ning, because of the carnal knowledge committed 
between Prince Arthur her first husband, the 
king's brother, and her. This matter being 
very sore touched and maintained by the king's 
counsel ; and the contrary defended by such as 
took upon them to be on that other part with 
the good queen : and to prove the same carnal 
copulation they alleged many coloured reasons 
and similitudes of truth. It was answered again 
negatively on the other side, by which it seemed 
that all their former allegations [were] very 
doubtfid to be tried, so tlint it was said that no 



224 THE LIFE OF 

man could know the truth. " Yes," quoth the 
Bishop of Rochester, " Ego nosco veritatem^ 
I know the truth." " How know you the truth ?" 
quoth my Lord Cardinal. " Forsooth, my lord," 
quoth he, " Ego sum professor veritatis, I know 
that God is truth itself, nor he never spake 
but truth ; who saith, quos Deus conjunxit, homo 
non separet. And forasmuch as this marriage 
was made and joined by God to a good intent, 
I say that I know the truth ; the which cannot 
be broken or loosed by the power of man upon 
no feigned occasion." " So much doth all faithful 
men know," quoth my Lord Cardinal, " as well 
as you. Yet this reason is not sufficient in this 
case ; for the king's counsel doth allege divers 
presumptions, to prove the marriage not good 
at the beginning, ergo, say they, it was not joined 
by God at the beginning, and therefore it is not 
lawful ; for God ordaineth nor joineth nothing 
without a just order. Therefore it is not to be 
doubted but that these presumptions must be 
true, as it plainly appeareth ; and nothing can 
be more true in case these allegations cannot be 
avoided ; therefore to say that the matrimony 
was joined of God, ye must prove it farther than 
by that text which ye have alleged for your 
matter : for ye must first avoid the presump- 
tions." " Then," quoth one Doctor Ridley, *' it 
is a shame and a great dishonour to this honour- 



CARDINAL WOLSEY. 225 

able presence, that any such presumptions should 
be alleged in this open court, which be to all 
good and honest men most detestable to be 
rehearsed." " What," quoth my Lord Cardinal, 
*' Domine Docto7\ magis reverenter." " No, no, 
my lord," quoth he, " there belongeth no re- 
verence to be given to these abominable presump- 
tions ; for an unreverent tale would be unre- 
verently answered." And there they left, and 
proceeded no farther at that time. 

Thus this court passed from session to session, 
and day to day, in so much that a certain day 
the king sent for my lord at the breaking up one 
day of the court to come to him into Bridewell. 
And to accomplish his commandment he went 
unto him, and being there with him in commu- 
nication in his grace's privy chamber from eleven 
until twelve of the clock and past at noon, my 
lord came out and departed from the king and 
took his barge at the Black Friars, and so went 
to his house at Westminster. The Bishop of 
Carlisle being with him in his barge said unto 
him, (wiping the sweat from his face), " Sir," 
quoth he, " it is a very hot day." *' Yea," quoth 
my Lord Cardinal, "if ye had been as well 
chafed as I have been within this hour, ye would 
say it were very hot." And as soon as he came 
home to his house at Westminster, lie went 
incontinent to his naked bed, where he had not 

Q 



226 THE LIFE OF 

lain fully the space of two hours, but that my 
Lord of Wiltshire came to speak with him of a 
message from the king. My lord, having under- 
standing of his coming, caused him to be brought 
unto his bed's side ; and he being there, showed 
him the king's pleasure was, that he should in- 
continent (accompanied with the other cardinal) 
repair unto the queen at Bridewell, into her 
chamber, to persuade her by their wisdoms, 
advising her to surrender the whole matter unto 
the king's hands by her own will and consent ; 
which should be much better to her honour than 
to stand to the trial of law and to be condemned, 
which would seem much to her slander and 
defamation. To fulfil the king's pleasure, my 
lord [said] he was ready, and would prepare 
him to go thither out of hand, saying farther to 
my Lord of Wiltshire, " Ye and other my lords 
of the council, which be near unto the king, are 
not a little to blame and misadvised to put any 
such fantasies into his head, whereby ye are the 
causes of great trouble to all the realm ; and at 
length get you but small thanks either of God 
or of the world," with many other vehement 
words and sentences that were like to ensue of 
this matter, which words caused my Lord of 
Wiltshire to water his eyes, kneeling all this 
while by my lord's bedside, and in conclusion 
departed. And then my lord rose up, and 



CAHDINAL WOLSEY. 



made him ready, taking hi.s barge, and went 
straight to Bath Place to the other cardinal ; 
and so went together unto Bridewell, directly 
to the queen's lodging : and they, being in her 
chamber of presence, showed to the gentleman 
usher that they came to speak with the queen's 
grace. The gentleman usher advertised the 
queen thereof incontinent. With that she came 
out of her privy chamber with a skein of white 
thread about her neck, into the chamber of pre- 
sence, where the cardinals were giving of attend- 
ance upon her coming. At whose coming quoth 
she, " Alack, my lords, I am very sorry to cause 
you to attend upon me ; what is your pleasure 
with me ?" " If it please you," quoth my Lord 
Cardinal, " to go into your privy chamber, we 
will show you the cause of our coming." " My 
lord," quoth she, *' if you have any thing to say, 
speak it openly before all these folks ; for I fear 
nothing that ye can say or allege against me, 
but that I would all the world should both hear 
and see it ; therefore I pray you speak your 
minds openly." Then began my lord to speak 
to her in Latin. " Nay, good my lord," quoth 
she, " speak to me in English I beseech you ; 
although I understand Latin." " Forsooth then," 
quoth my lord, " Madam, if it please your grace, 
we come both to know your mind, how ye be 
disposed to do in this matter between tlie king 

q2 



228 THE LIFE OF 

and you, and also to declare secretly our opi- 
nions and our counsel unto you, which we have 
intended of very zeal and obedience that we 
bear to your grace." " My lords, I thank you 
then," quoth she, " of your good wills ; but to 
make answer to your request I cannot so sud- 
denly, for I was set among my maidens at work, 
thinking full little of any such matter, wherein 
there needeth a longer deliberation, and a better 
head than mine, to make answer to so noble wise 
men as ye be ; I had need of good counsel in 
this case, which toucheth me so near ; and for 
any counsel or friendship that I can find in 
England, [they] are nothing to my purpose or 
profit. Think you, I pray you, my lords, will 
any Englishmen counsel or be friendly unto me 
against the king's pleasure, they being his sub- 
jects ? Nay forsooth, my lords ! and for my 
counsel in whom I do intend to put my trust 
be not here ; they be in Spain, in my native 
country. Alas, my lords ! I am a poor woman 
lacking both wit and understanding sufficiently 
to answer such approved wise men as ye be 
both, in so weighty a matter. I pray you to 
extend your good and indifferent minds in your 
authority unto me, for I am a simple woman, 
destitute and barren of friendship and counsel 
here in a foreign region : and as for yoiu' coun- 
sel I will not refuse but be glad to hear." 



CARDINAL WOLSEY. '229 

And with that she took my lord by tlie hand 
and led him into her privy chamber, with the 
other cardinal ; where they w ere in long commu- 
nication : we, in the other chamber, might some- 
time hear the queen speak very loud, but what 
it w^as we could not understand. The commu- 
nication ended, the carcUnals departed and went 
directly to the king, making to him relation of 
their talk with the queen ; and after resorted 
home to their houses to supper. 

Thus went this strange case forward from 
court-day to court-day, until it came to the 
judgment, so that every man expected the judg- 
ment to be given upon the next court-day'^. At 
which day the king came thither, and sat within 
a gallery against the door of the same that 
looked unto the judges where they sat, whom he 
might both see and hear speak, to hear what 
judgment they would give in his suit ; at which 
time all their proceedings were first openly read 
in Latin. And that done, the king's learned 
counsel at the bar called fast for judgment. 
With that, quoth Cardinal Campeggio, " I ^ will 
give no judgment herein until I have made rela- 



" July, 1529. 

' This tleternunation of Cainpcggio was in consequence of secret 
instructions from the pope (unknown to AVolscy), at the instance 
of ihe eniptior, wlio liad prevaikd upon the pontiff" to adjourn the 
court and remove the cause to Home. 



230 THE LIFE OF 

tion unto the pope of all our proceedings, whose 
counsel and commandment in this high case I 
will observe. The case is too high and notable, 
known throughout the world, for us to give any 
hasty judgment, considering the highness of the 
persons and the doubtful allegations ; and also 
whose commissioners we be, under whose au- 
thority we sit here. It were therefore reason, 
that we should make our chief head [of] counsel 
in the same, before we proceed to judgment 
definitive. I come not so far to please any 
man, for fear, meed, or favour, be he king or 
any other potentate. I have no such respect to 
the persons that I will offend my conscience. 
I will not for favour or displeasure of any high 
estate or mighty prince do that thing that should 
be against the law of God. I am an old man, 
both sick and impotent, looking daily for death. 
What should it then avail me to put my soul in 
the danger of God's displeasure, to my utter 
damnation, for the favour of any prince or high 
estate in this world ? My coming and being 
here is only to see justice ministered according 
to my conscience, as I thought thereby the mat- 
ter either good or bad. And forasmuch as I do 
understand, and having perceivance by the alle- 
gations and negations in this matter laid for both 
the parties, that the truth in this case is very 
doubtful to be known, and also that the party 



CARDINAL WOLSEY. 231 

defendant will make no answer thereunto, [but] 
doth rather appeal from us, supposing that we 
be not indifferent, considering the king's high 
dignity and authority within this his own realm 
which lie hath over his own subjects ; and we 
being his subjects, and having our livings and 
dignities in the same, she thinketh that we can- 
not minister true and indifferent justice for fear 
of his displeasure. Therefore, to avoid all these 
ambiguities and obscure doubts, I intend not 
to damn my soul for no prince or potentate 
alive. I will therefore, God willing, wade no 
farther in this matter, unless I have the just 
opinion and judgment, with the assent of the 
pope, and such other of his counsel as hath 
more experience and learning in such doubtful 
laws than I have. Wherefore I will adjourn 
this court for this time, according to the order 
of the court in Rome, from whence this court 
and jurisdiction is derived. And if we should 
go further than our commission doth warrant 
us, it were folly and vain, and much to our 
slander and blame ; and [we] might be ac- 
counted for the same breakers of the order 
of the higher court from whence we have (as 
I said) our original authorities." With that 
the court was dissolved, and no more ])leas 
holden. 



232 THE LIFE OF 

With that stepped forth the Duke of Suffolk^ 
from the king, and by his commandment spake 



^ These proceedings led the way to the next great step in the 
progress of the Reformation, the renunciation of the pope's au- 
thority, and the establishment of the regal supremacy. The 
following account, from an unpublished treatise, of the manner 
in which these questions were first brought to the king's mind 
(whether authentic or not) may not be unacceptable to my readers, 

" Now unto that you say, that because Pope Clement would 
not dispense with his second matrimonie, his majestie extirped out 
of England the papal authoritie, a thinge of most auncient and 
godly reverence as you take it, I aunsweare that after the kinges 
highness had so appeared in person before the Cardinal Campegio, 
one of the princes of his realm, named the Duke of Siiffolk, a great 
wise man, and of more familiaritie with the kinge than any other 
person, asked his majestie, ' how this matter might come to passe, 
that a prince in his own realme should so humble himself before 
the feet of a vile, strange, vitious priest,' (for Campegio there in 

England demeaned himself in very deed most carnally ). 

Whereunto the king aunswered, "he could not tell; but only that 
it seemed unto him, the spiritual men ought to judge spiritual 
matters ; and yet as you saye (said the king) me seemeth there 
should be somewhat in it, and I would right gladly understand, 
why and how, were it not that I would be loth to appeare more 
curious than other princes." " Why, sir (sayd the duke), your 
majestie may cause the matter to be discussed secretly by your 
learned men, without any rumour at all." " Very well (sayd the 
kinge), and so it shall be." And thus inspired of God, called he 
diverse of his trusty and great doctours unto him ; charging them 
distinctly to examine, ivhat lawe of God should direct so carnal a 
man as Campegio, under the name of spiritual, to judge a king in 
his owne realme. According unto whose commandment, these 
doctors resorting together unto an appointed place, disputed this 
matter large et stride, as the case required. And as the blacke 
by the white is knowen, so by conferring the oppositions together, 
it appeared that the evangelical lawe varied much from the canon 
lawcs in this pointe. So that in effect, because two contraries 



CARDINAL WOLSEY. 233 

these words, with a stout and an liault counte- 
nance, " It was never merry in England," (quoth 
he), " whilst we had cardinals among us :" which 
words were set forth both Avith such a vehement 
countenance, that all men marvelled what he 
intended ; to whom no man made answer. Then 
the duke spake again in great despight. To the 
whicli words my Lord Cardinal, perceiving his 
vehemency, soberly made answer and said, " Sir, 
of all men within this realm, ye have least cause 
to dispraise or be offended with cardinals : for 
if I, simple cardinal, had not been, you should 
have had at this present no head upon your 
slioulders, wherein you should have a tongue to 
make any such report in despight of us, who 
intend you no manner of displeasure ; nor have 
we given you any occasion with such despight 
to be revenged with your hault words. I would 
ye knew it, my lord, that I and my brother here 



cannot stand in uno sultjcclo, codcm casu ct tcmpoj'c, they were con- 
strained to recurre unto the kinges majesties pleasure, to knowe 
whether of these two lawes should he preferred : who smiling at 
the ignorance of so fonde a question aunsvvcared, that the Gospell 
of Christ ou^ht to he the absolute rule unto all others ; command- 
ing them therefore to followe the same, without regard cither to 
the civile, canon, or whatsoever other lawe. And here began the 
quicke : for these doctours had no sooner taken the Ciospel for 
their absolute rule, but they found this popish authoritie over the 
kinges and princes of this earth to be usurped." WiUiuni Tliomax'x 
Apolo^i/ for King Hcnrij lite Eii^hth, Avrittcn a. u. 151-7. p. 31-. 
Lambeth Library. MSS. No. 4'il.. W. 



234 THE LIFE OF 

intendeth the king and his realm as much honour, 
wealth, and quietness, as you or any other, of 
what estate or degree soever he be, within this 
realm ; and would as gladly accomplish his 
lawful desire as the poorest subject he hath. 
But, my lord, I pray you, show me what ye would 
do if ye were the king's commissioner in a fo- 
reign region, having a weighty matter to treat 
upon : and the conclusion being doubtful thereof, 
would ye not advertise the king's majesty or 
ever ye went through with the same ? Yes, 
yes, my lord, I doubt not. Therefore I would 
ye should banish your hasty malice and despight 
out of your heart, and consider that we be but 
commissioners for a time, and can, ne may not, 
by virtue of our commission proceed to judg- 
ment, without the knowledge and consent of the 
chief head of our authority, and having his con- 
sent to the same ; which is the pope. Therefore 
we do no less ne otherwise than our warrant 
will bear us ; and if any man will be offended 
with us therefore, he is an unwise man. Where- 
fore my lord, hold your peace, and pacify your- 
self, and frame your tongue like a man of honour 
and of wisdom, and not to speak so quickly or 
reproachfully by your friends ; for ye know best 
what friendship 3 ye have received at my hands, 

3 The history and occasion of this great obligation of the Duke 
of Suffolk to the cardinal^ wlio plainly intimates that but for his 



CARDINAL WOLSEY. '235 

the which I yet never revealed to no person 
ahve before now, neither to my glory, ne to your 
dislionour." And therewith the duke gave over 
the matter without any words to reply, and so 
departed and followed after the king, who was 
gone into Bridewell at the beginning of the 
duke's first words. 

This matter continued long thus, and my Lord 
Cardinal was in displeasure with the king, for 
that the matter in his suit took no better suc- 
cess, the faidt whereof was ascribed much to 
my lord, notwithstanding my lord excused him 
always by his commission, which gave him no 
farther authority to proceed in judgment, with- 
out knowledge of the pope, who reserved the 
same to himself. 

At the last they were advertised by their post 
that the pope would take deliberation in respect 
of judgment until his courts were opened, which 
should not be before Bartholomew tide next. 



interposition the duke must have lost his life, does not appear to 
be known to the historians. See Fiddess Life of Wohey. p. 454. 

W. 
A writer in the Gentleman's Magazine for 1755 (Dr. Peggc), 
who appears to have paid much attention to the Cardinal Wolsey's 
history, suggests that ^Vo]sey was the means of abating the anger 
of Henry at the marriage of Suffolk with his sister Mary Queen 
of France, which might have been made a treasonable offence. A 
letter from Mary to Wolscy, dated March 22, 151.5, af'tir her 
marriage with Suffolk, which is still extant in the Cotton Collec- 
tion, gives some probability to this conjecture. 



236 



THE LIFE OF 



The king considering the time to be very long 
or the matter should be determined, thought it 
good to send a new embassy to the pope, to 
persuade him to show such honourable favour 
unto his grace, that the matter might be sooner 
ended than it was likely to be, or else at the 
next court in Rome, to rule the matter over, ac- 
cording to the king's request. 

To this embassy was appointed Doctor Ste- 
phens 4, then secretary, that after was made 
Bishop of Winchester. Who went thither, and 
there tarried until the latter end of summer, as 
ye shall hear after. 

The king commanded the queen to be re- 
moved out of the court, and sent to another 
place ; and his highness rode in his progress, 
with Mistress Anne Boleyn in his company, all 
the grece season^. 

It was so that the Cardinal Campeggio made 
suit to be discharged, that he might return again 
to Rome. And it chanced that the secretary, 
who was the king's ambassador to the pope, was 
returned home from Rome; whereupon it was 
determined that the Cardinal Campeggio should 
resort to the king at Grafton in Northampton- 



4 i. e. Dr. Stephen Gardiner. 

5 i. e. The season of hunting, when the hart is in grease or full 
season. Dr. Wordsworth's edition and the more recent manu- 
scripts read — ' all that season.' 



CARDINAL WOLSEY. 237 

sliire, and that my lord Cardinal should accom- 
jjany him thither, where Campeggio should take 
his leave of the king. And so they took their 
journey thitherward from the Moor, and came to 
Grafton G upon the Sunday in the morning, before 
whose coming there rose in the court divers 
opinions, that the king would not speak with 
my Lord CarcUnal ; and thereupon were laid 
many great wagers. 

These two prelates being come to the gates 
of the court, where they alighted from their 
horses, supposing that they should have been 
received by the head officers of the house as 
they were wont to be ; yet for as much as Car- 
dinal Campeggio was but a stranger in effect, 
the said officers received them, and conveyed 
him to his lodging within the court, which was 
prepared for him only. And after my lord had 
brought him thus to his lodging, he left him 
there and departed, supposing to have gone 
directly likewise to his chamber, as he was 
accustomed to do. And by the way as he was 
going, it was told him that he had no lodging 
appointed for him in the court. And being 



•" The following additional particulars of the route are found in 
more recent MSS. " And were lodged the first night at a townc in 
]{edfordshire, called Leighton Bussarde, in the parsonage there, 
being Mr. Doctor Chambers's benefice, the kings phisitian. And 
from thence they rode the next day.'" 



238 THE LIFE OF 

therewith astonied, Sir Henry Norris, Groom 
of the Stole [to] the king, came unto him, (but 
whether it was by the king's commandment or 
no I know not), and most humbly offered him 
his chamber for the time, until another might 
somewhere be provided for him : " For, Sir, I 
assure you," quoth he, " here is very little room 
in this house, scantly sufficient for the king; 
therefore I beseech your grace to accept mine 
for the season.*' Whom my lord thanked for his 
gentle offer, and went straight to his chamber, 
where as my lord shifted his riding apparel, and 
being thus in his chamber, divers noble persons 
and gentlemen, being his loving friends, came to 
visit him and to welcome him to the court, by 
whom my lord was advertised of all things touch- 
ing the king's displeasure towards him ; which 
did him no small pleasure ; and caused him to be 
the more readily provided of sufficient excuses 
for his defence. 

Then was my lord advertised by Master 
Norris, that he should prepare himself to give 
attendance in the chamber of presence against 
the king's coming thither, who was disposed 
there to talk with him, and with the other car- 
dinal, who came into my lord's chamber, and 
they together went into the said chamber of 
presence, where the lords of the council stood 
in a row in order along the chamber. My lord 



CARDINAL WOLSEY. 930 

putting off his cap to every of them most gently, 
and so clid they no less to him : at which time 
the chamber was so furnished with noblemen, 
gentlemen, and other worthy persons, that only 
expected the meeting, and the countenance of 
the king and him, and what entertainment the 
king made him. 

Then immediately after came the king into 
the chamber, and standing there under the cloth 
of estate, my lord kneeled down before him, 
who took my lord by the hand, and so he did 
the other cardinal. Then he took my lord up 
by both arms and caused him to stand up, whom 
the king, with as amiable a cheer as ever he did, 
called him aside, and led him by the hand to a 
great window, where he talked with him, and 
caused him to be covered. 

Then, to behold the countenance of those 
that had made their wagers to the contrary, it 
would have made you to smile ; and thus were 
they all deceived, as well worthy for their pre- 
sumption. The king was in long and earnest 
communication with him, in so much as I heard 
the king say : " How can that be : is not this 
your own hand?" and plucked out from his 
bosom a letter or writing, and showed him the 
same ; and as I perceived tliat it was answered 
so by my lord that the king had no more to say 
in that matter ; but said to liim : " My lord, go 



240 THE LIFE OF 

to your dinner, and all my lords here will keep 
you company ; and after dinner I will resort to 
you again, and then we will commune further 
with you in this matter ; and so departed the 
king, and dined that same day with Mrs. Anne 
Boleyn, in her chamber, who kept there an 
estate more like a queen than a simple maid. 

Then was a table set up in the chamber of 
presence for my lord, and other lords of the 
council, where they all dined together ; and sit- 
ting thus at dinner communing of divers matters. 
Quoth my lord, " It were well done if the king 
would send his chaplains and bishops to their 
cures and benefices." " Yea marry," quoth my 
Lord of Norfolk, " and so it were for you too." 
" I could be contented therewith, very well," 
quoth my lord, " if it were the king's pleasure 
to grant me license, with his favour, to go to my 
benefice of Winchester." " Nay," quoth my Lord 
of Norfolk, " to your benefice of York, where 
consisteth your greatest honour and charge." 
" Even as it shall please the king," quoth my 
lord, and so fell into other communications. For 
the lords were very loth to have him planted so 
near the king as to be at Winchester 7. Im- 



7 The king had listened to their suggestions against the cardinal, 
and they felt assured of success; they are represented by an eye- 
witness, as boasting openly that they would humble him and all 
churchmen, and spoil them of their wealth : " La faintaisie de ces 



CARDINAL WOLSEV. 241 

mediately after dinner they fell in secret talk 
until the waiters had dined. 

And as I heard it reported by them that 
waited upon the king at dinner, that Mistress 
Anne Boleyn was much offended with the king, 
as far as she durst, that he so gently enter- 
tained my lord, saying, as she sat with the king 
at dinner, in communication of him, " Sir," 
quoth she, *' is it not a marvellous thing to con- 
sider what debt and danger the cardinal hath 
brought you in with all your subjects ?" " How 
so, sweetheart?" quoth the king. " Forsooth," 
quoth she, " there is not a man within all your 
realm, worth five pounds, but he hath indebted 
you unto him ;" (meaning by a loan that the 
king had but late of his subjects). " Well, 
well," quoth the king, " as for that there is in 
him no blame ; for I know that matter better 
than you, or any other." " Nay, Sir," quoth 
she, " besides all that, what things hath he 
wrought within this realm to your great slander 
and dishonour? There is never a nobleman 
within this realm that if he had done but half so 
much as he hath done, but he were well worthy 
to lose his head. If my Lord of Norfolk, my 



seigneurs est, que lui mort ou ruine ils deferrent incontinent icy 
I'estat de I'eglise, et prendront tous leurs biens; qu'il scroit ja 
besoing que je le misse en chifFre, car ils le crient en plaine table." 
L'Eue.sque de Bayonnr, Le Grand, Tom. iii. p. 374. 

II 



242 THE LIFE OF 

Lord of Suffolk, my lord my father, or any other 
noble person within your realm had done much 
less than he, but they should have lost their 
heads or this." *' Why, then I perceive," quoth 
the king, " ye are not the cardinal's friend?" 
" Forsooth, Sir," then quoth she, " I have no 
cause, nor any other that loveth your grace, 
no more have your grace, if ye consider well 
his doings.". At this time the waiters had taken 
up the table, and so they ended their communi- 
cation. Now ye may perceive the old malice 
beginning to break out, and newly to kindle the 
brand that after proved to a great fire, which 
was as much procured by his secret enemies, 
[of whom] I touched something before, as of 
herself. 

After all this communication, the dinner thus 
ended, the king rose up and went incontinent 
into the chamber of presence, where as my lord, 
and other of the lords were attending his coming, 
he called my lord into the great window, and 
talked with him there a while very secretly. 
And at the last, the king took my lord by the 
hand and led him into his privy chamber, sitting 
there in consultation with him all alone without 
any other of the lords of the council, until it was 
night ; the which blanked his enemies very sore, 
and made them to stir the coals ; being in doubt 
what this matter would grow unto, having now 



CARDINAL WOLSEY. 243 

none other refuge to trust to but Mistress Anne, 
in whom was all their whole and firm trust and 
affiance, without wliom they doubted all tlieir 
enterprise but frustrate and void. 

Now was I fain, being warned that my lord 
had no lodging in the court, to ride into the 
country to provide for my lord a lodging ; so 
that I provided a lodging for him at a house 
of Master Empson's called Euston, three miles 
from Grafton, whither my lord came by torch 
light, it w^as so late or the king and he departed. 
At whose departing the king commanded him 
to resort again early in the morning to the intent 
they might finish their talk which they had then 
begun and not concluded. 

After their departing my lord came to the 
said house at Euston to his lodging, where he 
had to supper with him divers of his friends of 
the court; and sitting at supper, in came to 
him Doctor Stephens, the secretary, late am- 
bassador unto Rome ; but to what intent he 
came I know not ; howbeit my lord took it, that 
he came to dissemble a certain obedience and 
love towards him, or else to espy his behaviour 
and to hear his communication at supper. Not- 
withstanding my lord bade him welcome, and 
commanded him to sit down at the table to 
supper ; with whom my lord had this communi- 



Q44 THE LIFE OF 

cation, under this manner. " Master Secretary," 
quoth my lord, " ye be welcome home out of 
Italy ; when came ye from Rome ?" " Forsooth," 
quoth he, " I came home almost a month ago." 
*' And where," quoth my lord, " have you been 
ever since ?" " Forsooth," quoth he, " following 
the court this progress." "Then have ye hunted, 
and had good game and pastime," quoth my lord. 
*' Forsooth, sir," quoth he, " and so I have, I 
thank the king's majesty." " What good grey- 
hounds have ye?" quoth my lord. " I have 
some, sir," quoth he. And thus in hunting, and 
like disports, passed they all their communica- 
tion at supper ; and after supper my lord and he 
talked secretly together, till it was midnight or 
they departed. 

The next morning my lord rose early and rode 
straight to the court ; at whose coming the king- 
was ready to ride, willing my lord to resort to 
the council with the lords in his absence, and 
said he could not tarry with him, commanding 
him to return with Cardinal Campeggio, who had 
taken his leave of the king. Whereupon my 
lord was constrained to take his leave also of the 
king, with whom the king departed amiably in 
the sight of all men. The king's sudden depart- 
ing in the morning was by the special labour 
of Mistress Anne, who rode with him, only to 



fARDINAL WOLSEY. ^45 

lead him about, because he should not return 
until the cardinals were gone, the which departed 
after dinner, returning again towards the Moor s. 

The king rode that morning to view a ground 
for a new park, which is called at this day Hart- 
well Park, where Mistress Anne had made pro- 
vision for the king's dinner, fearing his return 
or the cardinals were gone. 

Then rode my lord and the other cardinal after 
dinner on their way homeward, and so came to 
the monastery of St. Alban's (whereof he himself 
was commendatory), and there lay one whole 
day ; and the next day they rode to the Moor ; 
and from thence the Cardinal Campeggio took 
his journey towards Rome, with the king's re- 
ward ; what it was I am uncertain. Neverthe- 



" " Le pis de son mal est, que Mademoiselle de Boulen a faict 
promettre a son Amy qu'il ne I'escoutera jamais parler ; car elle 
pense bien qu'il ne le pourroit garder d'en avoir pitie." 

Lettre de VEveqite de Bai/onne ap. Le Grand, Tom. iii. p. 375. 

The manor of The Moor was situate in the parish of Rickmans- 
worth, in Hertfordshire ; the site is still called Moor Park. It was 
purchased and the house built by George Neville, Archbishop of 
York. Edward the fourth had promised to make that prelate a 
visit there, and while he was making suitable preparations to re- 
ceive his royal master he was sent for to Windsor, and arrested for 
liigh treason. The king seized at the Moor all his rich stuff and 
l)late to the value of 20,000 i. keeping the archbishop prisoner at 
(."alais and Hammes. Stoiuc, A". 1 172. There was a survey of 
the house in 1.568, by which it appears the mansion was of brick, 
the chief buildings forming a square court, which was entered by a 
gate-house with towers : the whole was moated. It was then in a 
dilapidated state. 



246 THE LIFE OF 

less, after his departure, the king was inforined 
that he carried with him great treasures of my 
lord's, (conveyed in great tuns) notable sums of 
gold and silver to Rome, whither they suraiised 
my lord would secretly convey himself out of 
this realm. In so much that a post was sent 
speedily after the cardinal to search him ; whom 
they overtook at Calais ^, where he was stayed 
until search was made ; there was not so much 
money found as he received of the king's reward, 
and so he was dismissed and went his way. 

After Cardinal Campeggio was thus departed 
and gone, Michaelmas Term i drew near, against 
the which my lord returned unto his house at 
Westminster; and when the Term began, he 
went to the hall in such like sort and gesture as 
he was wont most commonly to do, and sat in 
the Chancery, being Chancellor. After which 
day he never sat there more. The next day he 
tarried at home, expecting the coming of the 
Dukes of Suffolk and Norfolk, [who] came not 
that day; but the next day they came thither 
unto him ; to whom they declared how the king's 



» " Le Cardinal Campege est encores a Douvres^ et a ceste heure 
(je) viens cVentendre que, soubz couleur de faute de Navires, on ne 
le veult laisser passer, sans y prendre avis, de paeur qu'il n'emporte 
le thresor du Card, d' Yore." 

Lettre de I'Evesque de Bayonne, apud Le Grand Hist, du Divorce. 

' The Term then began the ninth of October. 



CARDrXAL WOLSEY. 247 

pleasure was that he sliould surrender and de- 
liver up the great seal into their hands, and to 
depart simplily unto Asher^, a house situate 
nigh Hampton Court, belonging to the Bishop- 
rick of Winchester. My lord understanding 
their message, demanded of them what commis- 
sion they had to give him any such command- 
ment ? who answered him again, that they were 
sufficient commissioners in that behalf, having 
the king's commandment by his mouth so to do. 
*' Yet," quoth he, " that is not sufficient for me, 
without farther commandment of the king's plea- 
sure ; for the great seal of England was delivered 
me by the king's own person, to enjoy during 
my life, with the ministration of the office and 
high room of chancellorship of England : for my 
surety whereof, I have the king's letters patent 
to show." Which matter was gi'eatly debated 
between the dukes and him with many stout 
words between them ; whose words and checks 
he took in patience for the time : in so much 
that the dukes were fain to depart again without 
their purpose at that present; and returned 
again unto Windsor to the king : and what re- 
port they made I cannot tell ; howbeit, the next 
day they came again from the king, bringing 
with them the king's letters. After the receipt 
and reading of the same by my lord, which was 

■ Eshtr. 



248 THE LIFE OF 

done with much reverence, he deUvered unto 
them the great seals, contented to obey the king's 
high commandment ; and seeing that the king's 
pleasure was to take his house, with the con- 
tents, was well pleased simply to depart to Asher, 
taking nothing but only some provision for his 
house. 

And after long talk between the dukes and 
him, they departed, with the great seal of Eng- 
land, to Windsor, unto the king. Then went 
my Lord Cardinal and called all officers in every 
office in his house before him, to take account 
of all such stuff as they had in charge *. And 
in his gallery there was set divers tables, where- 
upon a great number of rich stuffs of silk, in 
whole pieces, of all colours, as velvet, satin, da- 
mask, caffa, taffeta, grograine, sarcenet, and of 
other not in my remembrance ; also there lay 
a thousand pieces of fine hoUand cloth, whereof 
as I heard him say afterward, there was five 
hundred pieces thereof, conveyed both from the 
king and him ^. 

3 The Eighteenth November, 1529. 

4 This inventory is preserved among the Harleian MSS. No. 599. 

5 These vfords follow in the more recent MSS. " Yet there was 
laide upon every table, bokes, made in manner of inventories, re- 
porting the number and contents of the same. And even so there 
were bokes made in manner of inventories of all things here after 
rehearsed, wherein he toke great paines to set all things in order 
against the king's comming." 



CARDINAL WOLSEY. 249 

Furthermore there was also all the walls of the 
gallery hanged with cloth of gold, and tissue of 
divers makings, and cloth of silver likewise on 
both the sides ; and rich cloths of baudkin 6, of 
divers colours. There also hung the richest 
suits of copes of his own provision, (wdiich he 
caused to be made for his colleges of Oxford and 
Ipswich), that ever I saw in England. Then 
had he two chambers adjoining to the gallery, 
tlie one called the gilt chamber, and the other 
called, most commonly, the council chamber, 
wherein were set in each two broad and long 
tables, upon tressels, whereupon was set such a 
number of plate of all sorts, as were almost in- 
credible. In the gilt chamber was set out upon 
the tables nothing but all gilt plate ; and a cup- 
board standing under a window, was garnished 
all wholly with plate of clean gold, whereof some 
was set with pearl and rich stones. And in the 
council chamber was set all white plate and 
parcel gilt ; and under the tables, in both the 
chambers, were set baskets with old plate, which 
was not esteemed but for broken plate and old. 



* Baudkyn, cloth made partly of silk and partly of gold. Derived 
from Baldacca, an Oriental name for Babylon, being brought from 
thence. — " Baldekinuvi — pannus omnium ditissimus, cujus, utpote 
stamen ex filio auri, subtegmen ex serico texitur, plumario operc 
intertextus." Ducange Ghssar. in voce. It sometimes is used for 
a ranojii) or cloth of state. 



250 THE LIFE OF 

not worthy to be occupied, and books containing 
the value and weight of every parcel laid by 
them ready to be seen ; and so was also books 
set by all manner of stuff, containing the con- 
tents of every thing. Thus every thing being 
brought into good order and furnished, he gave 
the charge of the delivery thereof unto the king, 
to every officer within his office, of such stuiFas 
they had before in charge, by indenture of every 
parcel ; for the order of his house was such, as 
that every officer was charged by indenture with 
all such parcels as belonged to their office. 

Then all things being ordered as it is before 
rehearsed, my lord prepared him to depart by 
w^ater. And before his departing, he com- 
manded Sir William Gascoigne, his treasurer, 
to see these things before remembered delivered 
safely to the king at his repair [thither]. That 
done, the said Sir William said unto my lord, 
" Sir, I am sorry for your grace, for I under- 
stand ye shall go straightway to the Tower." 
" Is this the good comfort and counsel," quoth 
my lord, " that ye can give your master in ad- 
versity ? It hath been always your natural in- 
clination to be very light of credit ; and much 
more lighter in reporting of false news. I would 
ye should know. Sir WiUiam, and aU other such 
blasphemers, that it is nothing more false than 
that, for I never (thanks be to God), deserved 



CARDINAL WOLSEY. 251 

by no ways to come there under any arrest, al- 
though it hath pleased the king to take my house 
ready furnished for his pleasure at this time. I 
would all the world knew, and so I confess, to 
have nothing, either riches, honour, or dignity, 
that hath not gi'own of him and by him ; there- 
fore it is my very duty to surrender the same to 
him again as his very own, with all my heart, or 
else I were an unkind servant. Therefore go 
your ways, and give good attendance unto your 
charge, that nothing be embezzled." And there- 
withal he made him ready to depart, with all his 
gentlemen and yeomen, which was no small 
number, and took his barge at his privy stairs, 
and so went by water unto Putney, where all his 
horses waited his coming. And at the taking 
of his barge there was no less than a thousand 
boats full of men and women of the city of 
London, waffeting up and down in Thames, ex- 
pecting my lord's departing, supposing that he 
should have gone dii-ectly from thence to the 
Tower, whereat they rejoiced, and I dare be 
bold to say that the most part never received 
damage at his hands. 

O wavering and new tangled multitude ! Is 
it not a wonder to consider the inconstiuit mu- 
tability of this uncertain world ! The common 
people always desiring alterations and novelties 
of things for the strangeness oi'thc case; wliich 



252 THE LIFE OF 

after turneth them to small profit and com- 
modity. For if the sequel of this matter be well 
considered and digested, ye shall understand 
that they had small cause to triumph at his fall. 
What hath succeeded all wise men doth know, 
and the common sort of them hath felt. There- 
fore to grudge or wonder at it, surely were but 
folly ; to study a redress, I see not how it can 
be holpen, for the inclination and natural dis- 
position of Englishmen is, and hath always been, 
to desire alteration of officers, which hath been 
thoroughly fed with long continuance in their 
rooms with sufficient riches and possessions ; 
and they being put out, then cometh another 
hungry and a lean officer in his place, that biteth 
nearer the bone than the old. So the people be 
ever pilled and polled with hungry dogs, through 
their own desire of change of new officers, nature 
hath so wrought in the people, that it will not 
be redressed. "Wlierefore I cannot see but al- 
ways men in authority be disdained with the 
common sort of men ; and such most of all, that 
justly ministereth equity to all men indifferently. 
For where they please some one which receiveth 
the benefit of the law at [their] hands according 
-to justice, there doth they in likewise displease 
the contrary party, who supposeth to sustain 
great wrong, where they have equity and right. 
Thus all good justices be always in contempt 



CARDINAL WOLSEY. ^253 

with some for executing of indifferency. And 
yet such ministers must be, for if there should 
be no ministers of justice the world should run 
full of error and abomination, and no good 
order kept, ne quietness among the people. 
There is no good man but he will commend such 
justices as dealeth uprightly in their rooms, and 
rejoice at their continuance and not at their fall ; 
and whether this be true or no, I put it to the 
judgment of all discreet persons. Now let us 
leave, and begin again where we left. 

When he was with all his train arrived and 
landed at Putney, he took his mule, and every 
man his horse. And setting forth, not past the 
length of a pair of garden butts, he espied a 
man come riding empost down the hill, in Putney 
town, demanding of his footmen who they 
thought it should be? And they answered 
again and said, that they supposed it should be 
Sir Harry Norris. And by and bye he came to 
my lord and saluted him, and said " that the 
king's majesty had him commended to his grace, 
and willed him in any wise to be of good cheer, 
for he was as much in his highness' favour as 
ever he was, and so shall be." And in token 
thereof, he delivered him a ring of gold, with a 
rich stone, which ring he knew very well, for it 
was always the privy token between the king 
and him whensoever the king would have any 



254 THE LIFE OF 

special matter dispatched at his hands. And 
said furthermore, " that the king commanded him 
to be of good cheer, and take no thought, for he 
should not lack. And although the king hath 
dealt with you unkindly as ye suppose, he saith 
that it is for no displeasure that he beareth you, 
but only to satisfy more the minds of some 
(which he knoweth be not your friends), than for 
any indignation : and also ye know right well, 
that he is able to recompense you with twice as 
much as your goods amounteth unto ; and all 
this he bade me, that I should show you, there- 
fore, sir, take patience. And for my part, I 
trust to see you in better estate than ever ye 
were." But when he heard Master Norris re- 
hearse all the good and comfortable words of 
the king, he quickly lighted from off his mule, 
all alone, as though he had been the youngest 
person amongst us, and incontinent kneeled 
down in the dirt upon both his knees, holding 
up his hands for joy. Master Norris perceiving 
him so quickly from his mule upon the ground, 
mused, and was astonied. And therewith he 
alighted also, and kneeled by him, embracing 
him in his arms, and asked him how he did, call- 
ing upon him to credit his message. " Master 
Norris," quoth he, " when I consider your com- 
fortable and joyful news, I can do no less than 
to rejoice, for the sudden joy surmounted my 



CARDINAL WOLSEY. 255 

memory, having no respect neither to the place 
or time, but thouglit it my very bounden duty 
to render thanks to God my maker, and to the 
king my sovereign lord and master, who hath 
sent me such comfort in the very place where I 
received the same." 

And talking with Master Norris upon his knees 
in the mire, he would have pulled off his under 
cap of velvet, but he could not undo the knot 
under his chin ; wherefore with violence he rent 
the laces and pulled it from his head, and so 
kneeled bare headed. And that done, he co- 
vered again his head, and arose, and would have 
mounted his mule, but he could not mount again 
with such agility as he lighted before, where his 
footmen had as much ado to set him in his sad- 
dle as they could have. Then rode he forth 
up the hill into the town, talking with Master 
Norris. And when he came upon Putney Heath, 
Master Norris took his leave and would have 
departed. Then quoth my lord unto him, 
" Gentle Norris, if I were lord of a realm, the 
one half thereof were insufficient a reward to 
give you for your pains, and good comfortable 
news. But, good Master Norris, consider with 
me, that I have nothing left me but my clothes 
on my back. Therefore I desire you to take 
this small reward of my hands ;" the whicli was 
a httle chain of gold, made like a bottle cliain. 



256 THE LIFE OE 

with a cross of gold hanging thereat, wherein 
was a piece of the Holy Cross, which he wore 
continually about his neck next his skin ; and 
said furthermore, " I assure you, Master Norris, 
that when I was in prosperity, although it seem 
but small in value, yet I would not gladly have 
departed with it for the value of a thousand 
pounds. Therefore 1 beseech you to take it in 
gree, and wear it about your neck for my sake, 
and as often as ye shall happen to look upon it, 
have me in remembrance to the king's majesty, 
as opportunity shall serve you, unto whose 
Highness and clemency, I desire you to have 
[me] most lowly commended ; for whose cha- 
ritable disposition towards me, I can do nothing 
but only minister my prayer unto God for the 
preservation of his royal estate, long to reign in 
honour, health, and quiet life. I am his obe- 
dient subject, vassal, and poor chaplain, and do 
so intend, God willing, to be during my life, ac- 
counting that of myself I am of no 'estimation 
nor of no substance, but only by him and of him, 
whom I love better than myself, and have justly 
and truly served, to the best of my gross wit." 
And with that he took Master Norris by the 
hand and bade him farewell. And being gone 
but a small distance, he returned, and called 
Master Norris again, and when he was returned, 
he said unto him : "I am sorry," quoth he, 



CARDINAL WOLSEY. 257 

*' tliat I Jiavc no condign token to send to the 
king. But if ye would at tliis my request pre- 
sent the king with this poor Fool, I trust his 
highness would accept him well, for surely for a 
nobleman's pleasure he is worth a thousand 
pounds 7." So Master Norris took the Fool with 
him ; with whom my lord was fain to send six 
of [his] tall yeomen, to conduct and convey the 
Fool to the court ; for the poor Fool took on 
and fired so in such a rage when he saw that he 
must needs depart from my lord. Yet notwith- 
standing they conveyed him with Master Norris 
to the court, where the king received him most 
gladly. 

After the departure of Master Norris with his 
token to the king, my lord rode straight to Asher, 
a house appertaining to the Bishoprick of Win- 
chester, situate within the county of Siu'rey, not 
far from Hampton Court, where my lord and 
his family continued the space of three or four 
weeks, without beds, sheets, table cloths, cups 



7 The name of Cardinal Wolsey's fool is said to have been 
" Master Williams, otherwise called Patch." An inquiry into 
this very curious feature in the domestic manners of the gi-eat in 
ancient times could not fail to be very interesting. Mr. Douce has 
glanced at the subject in his Illustrations of Shakspcare ; and gave 
his friends reason to hoi)e for a more enlarged inquiry at a futiu-c 
period : it would afford me real pleasure to hear that his intentions 
were not finally abandoned. 



258 THE LIFE OF 

and dishes to eat our meat, or to lie in. How- 
beit, there was good provision of all kind of 
victuals, and of drink, both beer and wine, 
whereof there was sufficient and plenty. My 
lord was of necessity compelled to borrow of the 
Bishop of Carlisle, and of Sir Thomas Arundell, 
both dishes to eat his meat in, and plate to drink 
in, and also linen cloths to occupy. And thus 
continued he in this strange estate until the feast 
of All-hallown tide was past s. 

It chanced me upon All-hallown day to com.e 
there into the Great Chamber at Asher, in the 
morning, to give mine attendance, where I found 
Master Cromwell leaning in the great window, 
with a Primer in his hand, saying of our Lady 
mattins ; which had been since a very strange 



8 The Bishop of Bayonne, who paid him a visit of commisera- 
tion at this period, gives the following affecting picture of his dis- 
tress, in a most interesting letter which will be found in the Ap- 
pendix ; he says : " J'ay este voir le Cardinal en ses ennuis, oil 
que j'y ay trouve le plus grand example de fortune qu on ne s^au- 
roit voir, il m'a remonstre son cas en la plus mauvaise rhetorique 
que je vis jamais, car cueiir et parolle luy falloient entierement ; \\ 
a bien pleure et prie que le Roy et Madame voulsissent avoir pitie 
du luy :— mais il m'a a la fin laisse sans me povoir dire austre chose 
qui vallist mieux que son visage ; qui est bien dechue de la moiti^ 
de juste pris. Et vous promets, Monseigneur, que sa fortune est 
telle que ses ennemis, encores qu'ils soyent Anglois, ne se s^auroy- 
ent garder d'en avoir piti^, ce nonobstant ne le laisseront de le 
poursuivre jusques au bout.'' He represents him as willing to give 
up every thing, even the shirt from his back, and to live in a 
hermitage if the king would desist from his displeasure. 




THOMAS ClJOMWi;!,! 
K.AUI. OK KSSl'.N. 



)Ki(;i.N.\i. I'K rruK hy iioi.hi'.i.n 



CARDIXAL WOLSEV. "2.59 

sight 9. He prayed not more earnestly than the 
tears distilled from his eyes. Whom I bade 



y Dr. "N^ordswoi-th's edition and the later manuscripts read : 
" irhich had bine a strange sight in him afore ;" but this can hardly 
be right? The splendour of Cromwell's subsequent fortunes, their 
tragical close, and the prominent figure he makes in the events of 
this reign, which are among the most important of modern history, 
gives this circumstantial account a great degree of interest. His 
father was a blacksmith at Putney, the son was first an agent to 
an English factory at Antwerp, then a trooper in the Duke of 
Bourbon's army, and was present at the sacking of Rome. It 
appears that he assisted Mr. Russell (afterwards Earl of Bedford), 
in making his escape from the French at Bologna, and it is pro- 
bably to this circumstance that he owed the friendly offices of that 
gentleman at a subsequent period. After passing some time in the 
counting-house of a Venetian merchant, he returned to England 
and studied the law. Wolsey, it appears, first met with him in 
France, and soon made him his principal agent in the dissolution 
of monasteries and the foundation of his colleges. It was a trust 
which he discharged with ability, and is said to have enriched 
himself; yet he here complains that he " never had any promotion 
at the cardinal's hands to the increase of his living." And he tells 
the cardinal in his troubles, that '•' the soliciting his cause hath 
been very chargeable to him, and he cannot sustain it any lonp-er 
without other respect than he hath had heretofore." He says, " I 
am a thousand pounds worse than I was when your troubles began." 
And after announcing the king's determination to dissolve the car- 
dinal's colleges, he says : " I intreat your grace to be content, and 
let your prince execute his pleasure." 

Cardinal Pole relates that he openly professed to him his Ma- 
chiavelian principles; he had learned, he said, " that vice and vir- 
tue were but names, fit indeed to amuse the leisure of the learned 
in their colleges, but pernicious to the man who seeks to rise in 
the courts of princes. The great art of the politician was, in his 
judgment, to penetrate through the disguise which sovereigns are 
accustomed to throw over their real inclinations, and to devise the 
most specious expedients by which they may gratify their appe- 
tites without appearing to outrage morality or religion." He 



260 THE LIFE OF 

good morrow. And with that I perceived the 
tears upon his cheeks. To whom I said, *' Why 
Master Cromwell, what meaneth all this your 
sorrow ? Is my lord in any danger, for whom ye 
lament thus ? or is it for any loss that ye have 
sustained by any misadventure ?" 

" Nay, nay," quoth he, "it is m.y unhappy 
adventure, which am like to lose all that I have 
travailed for all the days of my life, for doing 
of my master true and diligent service." '* Why, 
sir," quoth I, " I trust ye be too wise, to commit 
any thing by my lord's commandment, otherwise 
than ye might do of right, whereof ye have any 
cause to doubt of loss of your goods." *' Well, 
well," quoth he, " I cannot tell ; but all things 
I see before mine eyes, is as it is taken ; and 
this I understand right well, that I am in dis- 
dain with most men for my master's sake ; and 
surely without just cause. Howbeit, an ill name 
once gotten will not lightly be put away. I 
never had any promotion by my lord to the in- 
crease of my living. And thus much will I say 
to you, that I intend, God willing, this after- 
noon, Vi^hen my lord hath dined, to ride to Lon- 
don, and so to the court, where I will either make 



shared largely in the public odium in which the cardinal was held, 
and Pole, who was then in London, says that the people loudly 
clamoured for his punishment. 



CARDINAL WOLSEY. '2(il 

or mar i, or I come again. I will put myself in 
prease2, to see what any man is able to lay 



' The (lay after it appears Cromwell was at courts and sought 
an audience from the king, which was granted him; Cardinal 
Pole, who had the account from Cromwell himself and others who 
were present, relates that upon this occasion Cromwell suggested 
to the king a mode of overcoming the difficulty of the pope's oppo- 
sition to the divorce, by taking the authority into his own hands, 
and declaring himself head of the church within his own realm. 
The king gave ear to the proposition, and was so well pleased with 
Cromwell, that he thanked him, and admitted him to the dignity 
of a privy counsellor. This was the first step ; to carry into effect 
this project his assistance was deemed necessary, and he arrived 
at length to the liighest honours of the state ; but at last became 
the victim of his own Machiavelian intrigues, and the vindictive 
spirit of the monarch. It has been doubted whether Cromwell 
deserves the credit of attachment to his fallen master to the whole 
extent which some writers have supposed. It is evident, from the 
very interesting conversation above, that he despaired of ever 
seeing Wolsey reinstated in his fortunes, and he was too subtle 
in his policy to have endeavoured to swim against the stream of 
court favour. That the cardinal suspected his fidelity to his 
cause is evident from fragments of two letters published by 
Fiddes among Mr. Master's collections, in one of which Cromwell 
says : " I am informed your grace hath me in some diffidence, as 
if I did dissemble with you, or procure any thing contrary to your 
profit and honour. I much muse that your grace should so think 
or suspect it secretly, considering the pains I have taken, &c. 
Wherefore 1 beseech you to speak without faining, if you have 
such conceit, that I may clear myself; I reckoned tliat your grace 
would have written plainly unto me of such thing, rather than se- 
cretly to have misrepresented me. But I shall bear your grace 
no less good will. Let God judge between us ! Truly your grace 
in some things overshootcth yourself; there is regard to be given to 
what things you utter, and to whom." 

The cardinal, in answer to this, protests: " that he suspects him 



In prensr, i. e. the press or crowd. 



262 THE LIFE OF 

to my charge of untruth or misdemeanour. 
" Marry, sir," quoth I, " in so doing, in my 
conceit, ye shall do very well and wisely, be- 
seeching God to be your guide, and send you 
good luck, even as I would myself." And with 
that I was called into the closet, to see and 
prepare all things ready for my lord, who in- 
tended that day to say mass there himself; and 
so I did. 

And then my lord came thither with his 
chaplain, one Doctor Marshall, saying first his 
mattins, and heard two masses on his knees. 
And then after he was confessed, he himself said 
mass. And when he had finished mass, and all 
his divine service, returned into his chamber, 
where he dined among divers of his doctors, 
where as Master Cromwell dined also ; and 



not, and that may appear by his deeds, so that he useth no man's 
help nor counsel but his. Complaint indeed hath been made to him, 
that Cromwell hath not done him so good offices as he might con- 
cerning his colleges and archbishoprick ; but he hath not believed 
them ; yet he hath asked of their common friends how Cromwell 
hath behaved himself towards him ; and to his great comfort hath 
found him faithful. Wherefore he beseecheth him, with weeping 
tears, to continue stedfast, and give no credit to the false sugges- 
tions of such as would sow variance between them, and so leave 
him destitute of all help." 

But the testimony of Cavendish in his favour is conclusive ; he 
says that, by reason of " his honest behaviour in his master's cause, 
he grew into such estimation in every man's opinion, that he was 
esteemed to be the most faithfuUest servant to his master of all 
other, wherein he was of all men greatly commtndtd." 



CARDINAL nOLSEY. 263 

sitting at dinner, it chanced tliat my lord com- 
mended the true and faithful service of his gen- 
tlemen and yeomen. Whereupon Master Crom- 
Avell took an occasion to say to my lord, that in 
conscience he ought to consider their truth and 
loyal service that they did him, in this his pre- 
sent necessity, which never forsaketh him in all 
his trouble. 

" It shall be well done, therefore," said he, 
" for your grace to call before you all these 
your most worthy gentlemen and right honest 
yeomen, and let them understand, that ye right 
well consider their patience, truth, and faithful- 
ness ; and then give them your commendation, 
with good words and thanks, the which shall be 
to them great courage to sustain your mishap 
in patient misery, and to spend their life and 
substance in your service." 

" Alas, Thomas," quoth my lord unto him, 
" ye know I have nothing to give them, and 
words without deeds be not often well taken. 
For if I had but as I have had of late, I would 
depart with them so frankly as they should be 
well content : but nothing hath no savour ; and 
I am ashamed, and also sorry that I am not able 
to requite their faithful service. And although 
I have cause to rejoice, considering the fidelity 
I perceive in the number of my f^ervants, who 
will not depart from me in my miserable estate, 



264 THii LIFE OF 

but be as diligent, obedient, and serviceable 
about me as they were in my great triumphant 
glory, yet do I lament again the want of sub- 
stance to distribute among them." " Why, sir," 
quoth Master Cromwell, " have ye not here a 
number of chaplains, to whom ye have departed 
very liberally with spiritual promotions, in so 
much as some may dispend, by your grace's 
preferment, a thousand marks by the year, and 
some five hundred marks, and some more, and 
some less; ye have no one chaplain within all 
your house, or belonging unto you, but he may 
dispend at the least well (by your procurement 
and preferment) three hundred marks yearly, 
who had all the profit and advantage at your 
hands, and other your servants none at all ; and 
yet hath your poor servants taken much more 
pains for you in one day than all your idle chap- 
lains hath done in a year. Therefore if they will 
not freely and frankly consider your liberality, 
and depart with you of the same goods gotten in 
your service, now in your great indigence and 
necessity, it is pity that they live ; and all the 
world will have them in indignation and hatred, 
for their abominable ingratitude to their master 
and lord." 

" I think no less, Thomas," quoth my lord, 
" wherefore, [I pray you,] cause all my servants 
to be called and to assemble without, in my 



CARDINAL WOLSEY. ^65 

great cliainbcr, after dinner, and sec them stand 
in order, and I will declare unto tlieni my mind, 
according to your advice." After that the board's 
end was taken up, Master Cromwell came to me 
and said, " Heard you not, what my Lord said 
even now ?" " Yes, sir," quoth I, " that I did." 
** Well, then," quoth he, " assemble all my lord's 
servants up into the great chamber ;" and so I 
did, and when they were all there assembled, I 
assigned all the gentlemen to stand on the right 
side of the chamber, and the yeomen on the left 
side. And at the last my lord came thither, 
appareled in a white rochet upon a violet gown 
of cloth like a bishop's, who went straight into 
the great window. Standing there a while, and 
his chaplains about him, beholding the number 
of his servants divided in two parts, he could 
not speak unto them for tenderness of his heart ; 
the flood of tears that distilled from his eyes 
declared no less : the which perceived by his 
servants, caused the fountains of water to gush 
out of their faithful hearts down their cheeks, 
in such abundance as it would cause a cruel 
heart to lament. At the last, after he had 
turned his face to the wall, and wiped his eyes 
with his handkerchief, he spake to them after 
this sort in effect : " Most faithful gentlemen 
and true hearted yeomen, I do not only lament 
[to see] your persons present about me, but I do 



^66 THE LIFE OF 

lament my negligent ingratitude towards you all 
on my behalf, in whom hath been a great default, 
that in my prosperity [I] have not done for you 
so much as I might have done, either in word 
or deed, which was then in my power to do : 
but then I knew not my jewels and special trea- 
sures that I had of you my faithful servants in 
my house ; but now approved experience hath 
taught me, and with the eyes of my discretion, 
which before were hid, I do perceive well the 
same. There was never thing that repented me 
more that ever I did than doth the remembrance 
of my oblivious negligence and ungentleness, 
that I have not promoted or preferred you to con- 
dign rooms and preferments, according to your 
demerits. Howbeit, it is not unknown to you 
all, that I was not so well furnished of temporal 
advancements, as I was of spiritual preferments. 
And if I should have promoted you to any of 
the king's offices and rooms, then should I have 
incurred the indignation of the king's servants, 
who would not much let to report in every place 
behind my back, that there could no office or 
room in the king's gift escape the cardinal and 
his servants, and thus should I incur the obloquy 
and slander before the whole world. But now 
it is come to this pass, that it hath pleased 
the king to take all that ever 1 have into his 
possession, so that I have nothing left me but 



CARDINAL WOLSEY. 267 

my bare clothes upon my back, the which be 
but simple in comparison to those that ye have 
seen me have or this : howbeit, if they may do 
you any good or pleasure, I would not stick to 
divide them among you, yea, and the skin of 
my back, if it might countervail any thing in 
value among you. But, good gentlemen and 
yeomen, my trusty and faithful servants, of 
whom no prince hath the like, in my opinion, 
I most heartily require you to take with me 
some patience a little while, for I doubt not 
but that the king, considering the offence sug- 
gested against me by my mortal enemies, to be 
of small effect, will shortly, I doubt not, restore 
me again to my living, so that I shall be more 
able to divide some part thereof yearly among 
you, whereof ye shall be well assured. For the 
surplusage of my revenues, whatsoever shall re- 
main at the determination of my accompts, shall 
be, God willing, distributed among you. For I 
will never hereafter esteem the goods and riches 
of this uncertain world but as a vain thing, more 
than shall be sufficient for the maintenance of 
mine estate and dignity, that God hath or shall 
call me unto in this world during my life. And 
if the king do not thus shortly restore me, then 
will I see you bestowed according to your own 
recjuests, and write for you, either to the king, 
or to any other noble ))erson within this realm. 



268 THE LIFE OF 

to retain you into service ; for I doubt not but 
the king, or any noble man, or worthy gentle- 
man of this realm, will credit my letter in your 
commendation. Therefore, in the mean time, 
mine advice is, that ye repair home to your 
wives, such as have any : and such among you 
as hath none, to take this time to visit your 
parents and friends in the country. There is 
none of you all, but once in a year would re- 
quire licence to visit your wives and other of 
your friends : take this time, I pray you, in re- 
spect thereof, and at your return I will not 
refuse you, if I should beg with you. I consider 
that the service of my house hath been such, 
and of such sort, that ye be not meet or apt to 
serve [any] man under the degree of a king ; 
therefore I would wish you to serve no man but 
the king, who I am sure will not reject you. 
Therefore I desire you to take your pleasures 
for a month, and then ye may come again unto 
me, and I trust by that time, the king's majesty 
will extend his clemency upon me." " Sir," 
quoth Master Cromwell, " there is divers of 
these your yeomen, that would be glad to see 
their friends, but they lack money : therefore 
here is divers of your chaplains who have re- 
ceived at your hands great benefices and high 
dignities ; let them therefore now show them- 
selves unto you as they are bound by all hu- 



CARDINAL WOLSF.Y. 269 

manity to do. I think their honesty and charity 
is not so slender and void of grace that they 
would not see you lack wliere they may help to 
refresh you. And for my part, although I have 
not received of your grace's gift one penny 
towards the increase of my yearly living, yet 
will 1 depart with you tliis towards the dispatch 
of your servants," and [therewith] delivered 
him five pounds in gold. " And now let us see 
what your chaplains will do. I think they will 
depart with you much more than I have done, 
who be more able to give you a pound than I 
one penny." *' Go to, masters," quoth he to the 
chaplains : in so much as some gave to him ten 
pounds, some ten marks, some a hundi'ed shil- 
lings, and so some more and some less, as at that 
time their powers did extend ; whereby my lord 
received among them as much money of their 
liberality as he gave to each of his yeomen a 
quarter's wages, and board wages for a month ; 
and they departed down into the hall, where 
some determined to go to their friends, and some 
said that they wotdd not depart from my lord 
until they might see him in better estate. My 
lord returned into his chamber lamenting the 
departure from his servants, making his moan 
unto Master Cromwell, who comforted him the 
best he could, and desired my lord to give him 
leave to go to London, where lie would eitlier 



S70 THE LIFE OF 

make or mar or he came again, which was al- 
ways his common saying. Then after long com- 
munication with my lord in secret, he departed 
and took his horse, and rode to London, at 
whose departing I was by, whom he bade fare- 
well ; and said, " ye shall hear shortly of me, 
and if I speed well, I will not fail to be here 
again within these two days." And so I took 
my leave of him, and he rode forth on his 
journe}^ Sir Rafe Sadler, (now knight), was 
then his clerk, and rode with him. 

After that my lord had supped that night, and 
all men gone to bed, (being All-hallown day), 
it chanced so, about midnight, that one of the 
porters came unto my chamber door, and there 
knocked, and waking me, I perceived who it 
was ; [and] asked him, *' what he would have 
that time of the night?" " Sir," quoth the 
porter, *' there is a great number of horsemen 
at the gate, that would come in, saying to me, 
that it is Sir John Russell, and so it appears to 
me by his voice ; what is your pleasure that I 
should do?" " Marry," quoth I, " go down 
again, and make a great fire in your lodge, 
against I come to dry them ;" for it rained all 
that night the sorest that it did all that year 
before. Then I rose and put on my nightgown, 
and came to the gates, and asked who was there. 
With that Master Russell spake, whom I knew 



CARDINAL WOLSEY. 271 

by his voice, and then I caused the porter to 
open the gates and let them all in, who were 
wet to the skin ; desiring Master Russell to go 
into the lodge to the fire ; and he showed me 
that he was come from the king unto my lord 
in message, with whom he required me to speak. 
" Sir," quoth I, " I trust your news be good?" 
" Yea, I promise you on my fidelity," quoth 
he, " and so, I pray you, show him, I have 
brought him sucli news that will please him 
right well." " Then I will go," quoth I, *' and 
wake him, and cause him to rise." I went in- 
continent to my lord's chamber door, and waked 
my lord, who asked me, " what I would have ?" 
" Sir," said I, " to show you that Sir John 
Russell is come from the king, who is desirous 
to speak with you ;" and then he called up one 
of his grooms to let me in ; and being within I 
told him " what a journey Sir John Russell liad 
that night." " I pray God," quoth he, *' all 
be for the best." " Yes, sir," quoth I, *' he 
showed me, and so bade me tell you, tliat he 
had brought you such news as ye would greatly 
rejoice thereat." " Well, then," quoth he, " God 
be praised, and welcome be his grace ! Go ye 
and fetch him unto me, and by that time 1 v/ill 
be ready to talk with him." 

Then I returned from Iiim to tlie lodge, and 
brought Master Russell from thence to my lord, 



272 THE LIFE OF 

who had cast on his nightgown. And when 
Master Russell was come into his presence, lie 
most humbly reverenced him, upon his knee, 
[to] whom my lord bowed down, and took him 
up, and bade him welcome. " Sir," quoth he, 
*' the king commendeth him unto you ;" and 
delivered him a great ring of gold with a Turkis, 
for a token ; " and willeth you to be of good 
cheer ; who loveth you as well as ever he did, 
and is not a little disquieted for your troubles, 
whose mind is full of your remembrance. In 
so much as his grace, before he sat to supper, 
called me unto him, and commanded me to take 
this journey secretly to visit you, to your com- 
fort the best of my power. And Sir, if it please 
your grace, I have had this night the sorest 
journey, for so little a way, that ever I had to 
my remembrance." 

My lord thanked him for his pains and good 
news, and demanded of him if he had supped ; 
and he said " Nay." " Well, then," quoth my 
lord to me, " cause the cooks to provide some 
meat for him ; and cause a chamber with a good 
fire to be made ready for him, that he may take 
his rest awhile upon a bed." All which com- 
mandment I fulfilled ; and in the meantime my 
lord and Master Russell were in very secret 
communication ; and in fine, Master Russell 
went to his chamber, taking his leave of my 



CARDINAL WOLSEY. TjS 

lord for all night, and said, " he would not tarry 
but a while, for he would, God willing, be at 
the court at Greenwich again before day, for he 
would not for any thing that it were known, his 
being with my lord that night." And so being 
in his chamber, having a small repast, rested 
him a while upon a bed, whilst his servants 
supped and dried themselves by the fire ; and 
then incontinent he rode away with speed to 
the court. And shortly after his being there, 
my lord was restored again unto plenty of house- 
hold stuff, vessels, and plate, and of all things 
necessary some part, so that he was indifferently 
furnished much better than he was of late, and 
yet not so abundantly as the king's pleasure was, 
the default whereof was in the officers, and in 
such as had the oversight of the delivery thereof; 
and yet my lord rejoiced in that little in com- 
parison to that he had before. 

Now let us return again to Master Cromwell, 
to see how he hath sped, since his departure last 
from my lord. The case stood so, that there 
should begin, shortly after All-hallown tide, the 
Parliament, and [he], being within London, de- 
vised with himself to be one of the Burgesses of 
the Parliament, and chanced to meet with one 
Sir Thomas Rush, knight, a special friend of his, 
whose son was appointed to be one of the Bur- 
gesses of that Parliament, of whom he obtained 



274^ THE LIFE OF 

his room, and by that means put his foot into 
the Parliament House : then within two or three 
days after his entry into the Parhament, he came 
unto my lord, to Asher, with a much pleasanter 
countenance than he had at his departure, and 
meeting with me before he came to my lord, 
said unto me, " that he had once adventured to 
put iij his foot, where he trusted shortly to be 
better regarded, or all were done." And when 
he was come to my lord, they talked together 
in secret manner ; and that done, he rode out 
of hand again that night to London, because he 
would not be absent from the Parliament the 
next morning. There could nothing be spoken 
against my lord in the Parliament House but he 
would answer it incontinent, or else take until 
the next day, against which time he would re- 
sort to my lord to know what answer he should 
make in his behalf; in so much that there was 
no matter alleged against my lord but that he 
was ever ready furnished with a sufficient an- 
swer ; so that at length, for his honest behaviour 
in his master's cause, he grew into such estima- 
tion in every man's opinion, that he was esteemed 
to be the most faithfuUest servant to his master 
of all other, wherein he was of all men greatly 
commended. 

Then was there brought in a Bill of Articles 
into the Parliament House to have my lord con- 



CARDINAL WOLSEY. !27.'> 

demned of treason ; against whicli bill Master 
Cromwell inveighed so discreetly, with such 
witty persuasions and deep reasons, that the 
same bill could take there no effect ^. Then were 
his enemies compelled to indite him in a p7-e- 
munire^ and all was done only to the intent to 
entitle the king to all his goods and possessions, 
the which he had gathered together, and pur- 
chased for his colleges in Oxford and Ipswich, 
and for the maintenance of the same, which was 
then abuilding in most sumptuous wise. Wherein 
when he was demanded by the judges, which 
were sent [to] him purposely to examine him 
what answer he would make to the same, he 
said : " The king's highness knoweth right well 
whether I have offended his majesty and his 
laws or no, in using of my prerogative legatine, 



3 A writer before cited (Dr. Pegge), is of opinion that the House 
of Commons could not do otherwise than acquit him, notwith- 
standing the validity of several of the articles alleged against him, 
because he had either suffered the law for them already, or they 
were not sufficiently proved : indeed some of them were not proper 
grounds of censure. 

' Wolsey says of these articles himself, " whereof a great part 
be untrue : and those which be true are of such sort, that by the 
doing thereof no maUce or untruth can be arrected unto mc, neither 
to the prince's person nor to the state." The rejection of the bill 
may be justly ascribed to the relentment of the king, for Cromwell 
would not have dared to oppose it, nor the Commons to reject it, 
had they not received an intimation that such was the royal 
pleasure' 

T 2 



276 THE LIFE OF 

for the which ye have me indited. Notwith- 
standing I have the king's license in my coffers, 
under his hand and broad seal, for exercising 
and using the authority thereof, in the largest 
wise, within his highness' dominions, the which 
remaineth now in the hands of my enemies. 
Therefore, because I will not stand in question 
or trial with the king in his own cause, I am 
content here of mine own frank will and mind, 
in your presence, to confess the offence in the 
inditement, and put me wholly in the mercy and 
grace of the king, having no doubt in his godly 
disposition and charitable conscience, whom I 
know hath an high discretion to consider the 
truth, and my humble submission and obedience. 
And although I might justly stand on the trial 
with him therein ; yet I am content to submit 
myself to his clemency, and thus much ye may 
say to him in my behalf, that I am entirely in 
his obedience, and do intend, God willing, to 
obey and fulfil all his princely pleasure in every 
thing that he will command me to do ; whose 
will and pleasure I never yet disobeyed or re- 
pugned, but was always contented and glad to 
accomplish his desire and commandment before 
God, whom I ought most rathest to [have] 
obeyed; the which negligence now greatly re- 
penteth me. Notwithstanding, I most heartily 



CARDINAL WOLSEY. 277 

require you, to have me most humbly to his 
royal majesty commended, for whom I do and 
will pray for the preservation of his royal person, 
long to reign in honour, prosperity, and quiet- 
ness, and to have the victory over his mortal and 
cankered enemies." And they took their leave 
of him and departed. 

Shortly after the king sent the Duke of Nor- 
folk unto him in message ; but what it w^as I 
am not certain. But my Lord being advertised 
that the duke was coming even at hand, he 
caused all his gentlemen to wait upon him 
down through the Hall into the Base Court, to 
receive the duke at the entry of the gates ; and 
commanded all his yeomen to stand still in the 
Hall in order. And he and his gentlemen went 
to the gates, where he encountered with my Lord 
of Norfolk, whom he received bareheaded ; who 
embraced each other: and so led him by the 
arm through the Hall into his chamber. And 
as the duke passed through the Hall, at the 
upper end thereof he turned again his visage 
down the Hall, regarding the number of the tall 
yeomen that stood in order there, and said : 
" Sirs," quoth he, " your diligent and faithful 
service unto my lord here your master, in this 
time of his calamity, hath purchased for your- 
selves of all noble men much honesty ; in so 



278 THE LIFE OF 

much as the king commanded me to say to 
you in his grace's name, that, for your true and 
loving service that ye have done to your master, 
his highness will see you all furnished at all 
times with services according to your demerits." 
With that my Lord Cardinal put oif his cap, 
and said to my Lord of Norfolk ; " Sir," quoth 
he, *' these men be all approved men : where- 
fore it were pity they should want other service 
or living; and being sorry that I am not able 
to do for them as my heart doth wish, do there- 
fore require you, my good lord, to be good lord 
unto them, and extend your good word for them, 
when ye shall see opportunity at any time here- 
after ; and that ye will prefer their diligent 
and faithful service to the king." " Doubt ye 
not thereof," quoth my Lord of Norfolk, *' but I 
will do for them the best of my power : and when 
I shall see cause, I will be an earnest suitor for 
them to the king ; and some of you I will retain 
myself in service for your honesty's sake. And 
as ye have begun, so continue and remain here 
still with my lord until ye hear more of the 
king's pleasure: — God's blessing and mine be 
with you!" And so went up into the great 
chamber to dinner, whom my Lord Cardinal 
thanked, and said unto him, " Yet, my lord, of 
all other noble men, I have most cause to thank 



CARDINAL WOLSEY. ^70 

you for your noble heart and gentle nature, 
which ye have showed me behmd my back, as 
my servant, Thomas Cromwell, hath made re- 
port unto me. But even as ye are a noble man 
in deed, so have ye showed yourself no less to 
all men in calamity, and in especial to me, and 
even as ye have abated my glory and high estate, 
and brought it full low, so have ye extended 
your honourable favour most charitably unto me, 
being prostrate before you. Forsooth, Sir, ye do 
right well deserve to bear in your arms the noble 
and gentle lion, whose natural inclination is, that 
when he hatli vanquished any beast, and seeth 
him yielded, lying jDrostrate before him at his 
feet, then will he show most clemency unto his 
vanquished, and do him no more harm, ne suffer 
any other devouring beast to damage him : whose 
nature and quality ye do ensue ; therefore these 
verses may be applied to your lordship : 

Parcere jirostratis xcit nobilis ira leonis : 

Tu quoquefac simile, quisquis regnabis in orbeni." 

With tliat the water was brought them to 
wasli before dinner, to the which my lord called 
my Lord of Norfolk to wash with him : but he 
refused of courtesy, and desired to have him 
excused, and said " that it became him not to 
presume to wash with him any more now, than 



280 THE LIFE OF 

it did before^ in his glory." " Yes, forsooth," 
quoth my Lord Cardinal, " for my authority and 
dignity legatine is gone, wherein consisted all 
my high honour." " A straw," quoth my Lord 
of Norfolk, " for your legacy. I never esteemed 
your honour the more or higher for that. But 
I regarded your honour, for that ye were Arch- 
bishop of York, and a cardinal, whose estate 
of honour surmounteth any duke now being 
within this realm ; and so will I honour you, and 
acknowledge the same, and bear you reverence 
accordingly. Therefore, I beseech you, content 
yourself, for I will not presume to wash with you ; 
and therefore I pray you, hold me excused." 
Then was my Lord Cardinal constrained to 
wash alone ; and my Lord of Norfolk all alone 
also. When he had done, my Lord Cardinal 
would fain have had him to sit down on the 



4 During the visit of the Emperor Charles V. to Henry VIII. 
" on Monday at nine of the clocke at night, was begun a banquet, 
which endured till the next morning at three of the clocke, at the 
which banquet the emperor, the king, and the Queene did wash 
together, the Duke of Buckingham giving the water, the Duke of 
Suffolke holding the towel. Next them did washe the Lord Car- 
dinall, the Queene of Fraunce, and the Queene of Arragon. At 
which banquet the emperor kept the estate, the king sitting on the 
left hand, next him the French Queene; and on the other side 
sate the Queene, the Cardinall, and the Queene of Aragon ; which 
banquet was served by the emperor's owne servants." Stoive's 
Annals, p. 510. edit. 1615. W. 



CARDINAL WOLSEY. 281 

chair, in the inner side of the table, but surely 
Jie refused the same also with much humble- 
ness. Then was there set another chair for 
my Lord of Norfolk, over against my Lord 
Cardinal, on the outside of the table, the which 
was by my Lord of Norfolk based something 
beneath my lord, and during the dinner all 
their communication was of the diligent service 
of the gentlemen which remained with my lord 
there attending upon him at dinner, and how 
much the king and all other noble men doth 
esteem them with worthy commendations for 
so doing; and at this time how little they be 
esteemed in the court that are come to the 
king's service, and [have] forsaken their master 
in his necessity ; whereof some he blamed by 
name. And with this communication, the din- 
ner being ended, they rose from the table, and 
went together into my lord's bedchamber, where 
they continued in consultation a certain season. 
And being there, it chanced Master Shelley, 
the judge, to come thither, sent from the king; 
whereof relation was made to my lord, which 
caused the duke and him to break up their 
communication ; and the duke desired to go 
into some chamber to repose him for a season. 
And as he was coming out of my lord's cham- 
ber, he met with Master Shelley, to whom 
Master Shelley made relation of the cause of 



'ZQ^Z THE LIFE OF 

his coming, and desired the duke to tarry and 
to assist him in doing of his message ; whom 
he denied and said, " I have nothing to do with 
your message, wherein I will not meddle ;" and 
so departed into a chamber, where he took his 
rest for an hour or two. And in the mean time 
my lord issued out of his chamber, and came 
to Master Shelley to know his message. Who 
declared unto him, after due salutation, that the 
king's pleasure was to have his house at West- 
minster, (then called York Place, belonging to 
the Bishoprick of York,) intending to make of 
that house a palace royal ; and to possess the 
same according to the laws of this his grace's 
realm. His highness hath therefore sent for 
all the judges, and for all his learned counsel, 
to know their opinions in the assurance thereof; 
in whose determinations it was fully resolved, 
that your grace should recognise, before a 
judge, the right thereof to be in the king and 
his successors ; and so his highness shall be 
assured thereof. Wherefore it hath pleased 
his majesty to appoint me by his commandment 
to come hither, to take of you this recognisance, 
who hath in you such affiance, that ye will not 
refuse so to do accordingly. Therefore I shall 
desire your grace to know your good will 
therein."-—" Master Shelley," quoth my lord, 
*' I know that the king of his own nature is of 



CARDINAL WOLSEY. 28S 

a royal stomacli, and yet not willing more than 
justice shall lead liini unto by the law. And 
therefore, I counsel you, and all other flitliers of 
the law and learned men of his counsel, to put 
no more into his head than tlie law may stand 
with good conscience ; for when ye tell him, 
this is the law, it were well done ye should tell 
him also that, although this be the law, yet this 
is conscience ; for law without conscience is 
not good to be given unto a king in counsel to 
use for a laAvful right, but always to have a 
respect to conscience, before the rigour of the 
common law, for laus est facere quod clecet, non 
quod licet. The king ought of his royal dignity 
and prerogative to mitigate the rigour of the 
law, where conscience hath the most force ; 
therefore, in his royal place of equal justice, he 
hath constitute a chancellor, an officer to exe- 
cute justice with clemency, where conscience is 
opposed by the rigour of the law. And therefore 
the Court of Chancery hath been heretofore 
commonly called the Court of Conscience ; be- 
cause it hath jurisdiction to command the high 
ministers of tlie common law to spare execution 
and judgment, where conscience hath most effect. 
Therefore I say to you in this case, although 
you, and other of your profession, perceive by 
youi- learning that the king may, by an order of 
your laws, lawfully do that thing which ye de- 



284 THE LIFE OF 

mand of me ; how say you, Master Shelley, may 
I do it with justice and conscience, to give that 
thing away from me and my successors which is 
none of mine? If this be law, with conscience, 
show me your opinion, I pray you." " For- 
sooth, my lord," quoth he, " there is some con- 
science in this case ; but having regard to the 
king's high power, and to be employed to a 
better use and purpose, it may the better be 
suffered with conscience ; who is sufficient to 
make recompense to the church of York with 
double the value." " That I know well," quoth 
my lord, " but here is no such condition neither 
promised nor agreed, but only a bare and simple 
departure with another's right for ever. And if 
every bishop may do the like, then might every 
prelate give away the patrimony of their churches 
which is none of theirs ; and so in process of 
time leave nothing for their successors to main- 
tain their dignities, which, all things considered, 
should be but small to the king's honour. Sir, 
I do not intend to stand in terms with you in 
this matter, but let me see your commission." 
To whom Master Shelley showed the same, and 
that seen, and perceived by him, said again thus : 
" Master Shelley," quoth he, *' ye shall make re- 
port to the king's highness, that I am his obedi- 
ent subject, and faithful chaplain and headman, 
whose royal commandment and request I will in 



CARDINAL WOLSEY. 2S6 

no wise disobey, but most gladly fulfil and ac- 
complish his princely will and pleasure in all 
things, and in especial in this matter, in as much 
as ye, the fathers of the laws, say that I may 
laA\^ully do it. Therefore I charge your con- 
science and discharge mine. Howbeit, I pray 
you, show his majesty from me, that I most 
humbly desire his highness to call to his most 
gi^acious remembrance, that there is both heaven 
and hell." And therewith the clerk was called, 
who wrote my lord's recognisance^, and after 
some secret talk Master Shelley departed. Then 
rose my Lord of Norfolk from his repose, and 
after some communication with my lord he 
departed. 

Thus continued my lord at Asher, who re- 
ceived daily messages from the court, whereof 
some were not so good as some were bad, but 
yet much more evil than good. For his ene- 
mies, perceiving the great affection that the king 
bare always towards him, devised a mean to dis- 
quiet and disturb his patience ; thinking thereby 
to give him an occasion to fret and chafe, that 
death should rather ensue than increase of health 
or life, the which they most desired. They 
feared him more after his fall than they did be- 



' This instrument is publislieil by Fiddcs in liis CJollcctions, 
p. •2^21. 



286 



THE LIFE OF 



fore in his prosperity, doubting much his re- 
adoption into authority, by reason that the king's 
favour remained still towards him in such force, 
whereby they might rather be in danger of their 
estates, than in any assurance, for their cruelty 
ministered, by their malicious inventions, sur- 
mised and brought to pass against him. 

Therefore they took this order among them 
in their matters, that daily they would send 
him something, or do something against him, 
wherein they thought that they might give him 
a cause of heaviness or lamentation. As some 
day they would cause the king to send for four 
or five of his gentlemen from him to serve the 
king : and some other day they would lay mat- 
ters newly invented against him. Another day 
they would take from him some of his pro- 
motions ; or of their promotions whom he [had] 
preferred before. Then would they fetch from 
him some of his yeomen ; in so much as the king 
took into service sixteen of them at once, and 
at one time put them into his guard. This 
order of life he led continually ; that there 
was no one day but, or ever he went to bed, 
he had an occasion greatly to chafe or fret the 
heart out of his belly, but that he was a wise 
man, and bare all their malice in patience 6. 

^ The anguish and anxiety he suffered may be seen by the let- 
ters written at this pcrioti to his old servants Cromwell and Gar- 



CARDINAL WOLSEY. 287 

At Cliristmas he fell sore sick, that he was 
likely to die. Whereof the king being adver- 
tised, was very sorry therefore, and sent Doctor 
Buttes, his grace's physician, unto him, to see in 
what estate he was. Doctor Buttes came unto 
him, and finding him very sick lying in his bed ; 
and perceiving the danger he was in repaired 
again unto the king. Of Avhom the king de- 
manded, saying, *' How doth yonder man, have 
you seen him ?'* " Yea, sir," quoth he. " How 
do you like him ?" quoth the king. " Forsooth, 
sir," quoth he, " if you will have him dead, I 
warrant your grace he will be dead within these 
four days, if he receive no comfort from you 
shortly, and Mistress Anne." " Marry," quoth 
the king, *' God forbid that he should die. I pray 
you, good Master Buttes, go again unto him, 
and do your cure upon him ; for I would not 
lose him for twenty thousand pounds." *' Then 
must your grace," quoth Master Buttes, " send 
him first some comfortable message, as shortly 
as is possible." "Even so will I," quoth the 
king, " by you. And therefore make speed to 
him again, and ye shall deliver him from me 
this ring for a token of our good will and favour 
towards him, (in the which ring was engraved 



diner ; I have placed them in tlie Appendix, as a necessary ilkis- 
tration of this affecting picture. 



288 THE LIFE OF 

the king's visage within a ruby, as Uvely coun- 
terfeit as was possible to be devised). This 
ring he knoweth very well ; for he gave me the 
same ; and tell him, that I am not offended with 
him in my heart nothing at all, and that shall he 
perceive, and God send him life, very shortly. 
Therefore bid him be of good cheer, and pluck 
up his heart, and take no despair. And I charge 
you come not from him, until ye have brought 
him out of all danger of death." And then spake 
he to Mistress Anne, saying, " Good sweetheart, 
I pray you at this my instance, as ye love us, to 
send the cardinal a token with comfortable words ; 
and in so doing ye shall do us a loving pleasure." 
She being not minded to disobey the king's 
earnest request, whatsoever she intended in her 
heart towards the cardinal ; took incontinent her 
tablet of gold hanging at her girdle, and delivered 
it to Master Buttes, with very gentle and com- 
fortable words and commendations to the car- 
dinal. And thus Master Buttes departed, and 
made speedy return to Asher, to my Lord Car- 
dinal ; after whom the king sent Doctor Cle- 
ment, Doctor Wotton, and Doctor Cromer the 
Scot, to consult and assist Master Buttes for my 
lord's health. 

After that Master Buttes had been with my 
lord, and delivered the king's and Mistress 
Anne's tokens unto him, with the most com- 



CARDINAL WOLSEY. 289 

fortable words he could devise on tlieir belialf, 
whereat he rejoiced not a little, advancing him 
a little in his bed, and received their tokens most 
joyfully, thanking Master Buttes for his com- 
fortable news and pains. Master Buttes showed 
him furthermore, that the king's pleasure was, 
that he should minister unto him for his health : 
and to join with him for the better and most 
assured and brief ways, to be had for the same, 
hath sent Doctor Wotton, Doctor Clement, and 
Doctor Cromer, to join with him in counsel and 
ministration. " Therefore, my lord," quoth he, 
" it were well done that they should be called in 
to visit your person and estate, wherein I would 
be glad to hear their opinions, trusting in 
Almighty God that, through his grace and as- 
sistance, we shall ease you of your pains, and 
rid you clean from your disease and infii'mity. 
Wherewith my lord was well pleased and con- 
tented to hear their judgments ; for indeed he 
trusted more to the Scottish doctor than he did 
to any of the other, because he was the very 
occasion that he inhabited here in England, and 
before he gave him partly his exhibition in Paris. 
Then when they were come into his chamber, 
and had talked with him, he took upon him to 
debate his disease learnedly among them, so that 
they might understand that he was seen in that 

u 



i^90 THE LIFE OF 

art. After they had taken order for ministra- 
tion, it was not long or they brought him out of 
all danger and fear of death ; and within four 
days they set him on his feet, and got him a good 
stomach to his meat 7. This done, and he in a 
good estate of amendment, they took their leave 
to depart, to whom my lord offered his reward ; 
the which they refused, saying, that the king 
gave them in special commandment, to take 
nothing of him for their pains and ministration ; 
for at their return his highness said that he 
would reward them of his own costs : and thus 
with great thanks they departed from my lord, 
whom they left in good estate of recovery. 

After this time my lord daily amended, and 
so continued still at Asher until Candlemas ; 
against which feast, the king caused to be sent 
him three or four cart loads of stuff, and most 
part thereof was locked in great standards, (ex- 



7 In an extract from a letter to Cromwell, published by Fiddes, 
the cardinal says : " My fever is somewhat asswaged, and the 
black humour also, howbeit I am entering into the kalends of a 
more dangerous disease, which is the dropsy, so that if I am not 
removed into a dryer air, and that shortly, there is little hope." 
And in a letter to Gardiner, which will be found in the Appendix, 
he repeats his wish to be removed from Asher : " Continuing in 
this moiste and corrupt ayer, beyng enteryd in the passion of the 
dropsy, Appetitus et continuo insomnio, I cannot lyve ; wherfor of 
necessyte I must be removed to some dryer ayer and place." 



CARDINAL WOLSEY. 291 

cept beds and kitchen-stuff,) wherein was both 
plate and rich hangings, and chapel-stuff^. Then 
my lord, being thus furnished, was therewith 
well contented ; although they whom the king 
assigned did not deliver him so good, ne so 
rich stuff, as the king's pleasure was, yet was he 
joyous thereof, and rendered most humble thanks 
to the king, and to them that appointed the said 
stuff for him, saying to us his servants, at the 
opening of the same stuff in the standards, the 
which we thought, and said, might have been 
better appointed, if it had pleased them that ap- 
pointed it : " Nay, sirs," quoth my lord to us, 
" he that hath nothing is glad of somewhat, 
though it be never so little, and although it be 
not in comparison half so much and good as we 
had before, yet we rejoice more of this little than 
we did of the great abundance that we then had ; 
and thank the king very much for the same, 
trusting after this to have much more. There- 
fore let us all rejoice, and be glad, that God and 
the king hath so graciously remembered to re- 
store us to some things to maintain our estate 
like a noble person." 



^ Stu/fw3iS the general term for all kind of moveables or baggage. 
See the instrument of the king's benefaction to the cardinal after 
his forfeiture by the premunire, in Rymer's Fo-dcra, and in Fiddes' 
Collections. The reader will find the Schedule which was affixed 
to it, in our Appendix. 

U 2 



292 THE LIFE OF 

Then commanded he Master Cromwell, being 
with him, to make suit to the king's majesty, 
that he might remove thence to some other 
place, for he was weary of that house of Asher : 
for with continual use thereof the house waxed 
unsavoury ; supposing that if he might remove 
from thence he should much sooner recover his 
health. And also the council had put into the 
king's head, that the new gallery at Asher, 
which my lord had late before his fall newly set 
up, should be very necessary for the king, to 
take down and set it up again at Westminster ; 
which was done accordingly, and stands at this 
present day there 9. The taking away thereof 
before my lord's face was to him a corrosive, 
which was invented by his enemies only to tor- 
ment him, the which indeed discouraged him 
very sore to tarry any longer there. Now Ma- 
ster Cromwell thought it but vain and much folly 
to move any of the king's council to assist and 
prefer his suit to the king, among whom rested 
the number of his mortal enemies, for they would 
rather hinder his removing, or else remove him 
farther from the king, than to have holpen him 
to any place nigh the king's common trade; 
wherefore he refused any suit to them, and made 



" " From the old gallery next the king's lodging, unto the first 
gatehouse." Wordsxcorth's Edition. 



CARDINAL WOLSEY. 293 

only suit to the king's own person ; whose suit 
the king graciously heard, and thought it very 
convenient to be granted; and through the 
special motion of Master Cromwell, the king 
was well contented that he should remove to 
Riclimond, which place my lord had a little be- 
fore repaired to his great cost and charge ; for 
the king had made an exchange thereof with 
him for Hampton Court. All this his removing 
was done without the knowledge of the king's 
council, for if they might have had any intelli- 
gence thereof before, then would they have per- 
suaded the king to the contrary : but when they 
were advertised of the king's grant and pleasure, 
they dissimuled their countenances in the king's 
presence, for they were greatly afraid of him, 
lest his nigh being, the king might at length 
some one time resort to him, and so call him 
liome again, considering the gi'eat affection and 
love that the king daily showed towards him ; 
wherefore they doubted his rising again, if they 
found not a mean to remove him shortly from 
the king. In so much that they thought it con- 
venient for their purpose to inform the king 
upon certain considerations which they invented, 
that it were very necessary that my lord should go 
down into the North unto his benefice of York, 
where he should be a good stay for tlie country ; 
to the which the king, supposing that they had 



294 THE LIFE OF 

meant no less than good faith, granted and conde- 
scended to their suggestions ; which were forced 
so with wonderful imagined considerations, that 
the king, understanding nothing of their intent, 
was lightly persuaded to the same. Whereupon 
the Duke of Norfolk commanded Master Crom- 
well, who had daily access unto him, to say to 
my lord, that it is the king's pleasure that he 
should with speed go to his benefice, where lieth 
his cure, and look to that according to his duty. 
Master Cromwell at his next repair to my lord, 
who lay then at Richmond, declared unto him 
what my Lord of Norfolk said, how it was de- 
termined that he should go to his benefice. 
" Well then, Thomas," quoth my lord, *' seeing 
there is no other remedy, I do intend to go 
to my benefice of Winchester, and I pray you, 
Thomas, so show my Lord of Norfolk." *' Con- 
tented, sir," quotli Master Cromwell, and ac- 
cording to his commandment did so. To the 
which my Lord of Norfolk answered and said, 
" What will he do there ?" " Nay," quoth he, 
" let him go into his province of York, whereof 
he hath received his honour, and there lieth the 
spiritual burden and charge of his conscience, as 
he ought to do, and so show him." The lords, 
who were not all his friends, having intelligence 
of his intent, thought to withdraw his appetite 
from Winchester, and would in no wise permit 



CARDINAL WOLSEY. ^95 

him to plant himself so nigh the king : [they] 
moved therefore the king to give my lord but a 
pension i out of Winchester, and to distribute 
all the rest among the nobility and other of his 
worthy servants ; and in likewise to do the same 
with the revenues of St. Albans ; and of the re- 
venues of his colleges in Oxford and Ipswich, the 
which the king took into his own hands ; whereof 
Master Cromwell had the receipt and govern- 
ment before by my lord's assignment. In consi- 
deration thereof it was thought most convenient 
that he should have so still. Notwithstanding, 
out of the revenues of Winchester and St. Albans 
the king gave to some one nobleman three hun- 
dred marks, and to some a hundred pounds, and 
to some more and to some less, according to the 
king's royal pleasure. Now Master Cromwell 
executed his office, the which he had over the 
lands of the college, so justly and exactly that 
Jie was had in great estimation for his witty be- 
haviour therein, and also for the true, faithful, 
and diligent service extended towards my lord 
his master. 

It came at length so to pass that those to 
whom the king's majesty had given any annuities 



' '• or four tlioiisaiid marks/' say ilic more recent MSS. and 
Dr. Wortlsworlhs Edit. 



296 THE LIFE OF 

or fees for term of life by patent out of the fore- 
named revenues could not be good, but [only] 
during my lord's life, forasmuch as the king had 
no longer estate or title therein ^ which came 
to him by reason of my lord's attainder in the 
premunire ; and to make their estates good and 
sufficient according to their patents, it was 
thought necessary to have my lord's confirma- 
tion unto their grants. And this to be brought 
about, there was no other mean but to make 
suit to Master Cromwell to obtain their con- 
firmation at my lord's hands, whom they thought 
might best obtain the same. 

Then began both noblemen and other who had 
any patents of the king, out either of Win- 
chester or St. Albans, to make earnest suit to 
Master Cromwell for to solicit their causes to 
my lord, to get of him his confirmations ; and 
for his pains therein sustained, they promised 
every man, not only worthily to reward him, 
but also to show him such pleasures as should 
at all times lie in their several powers, whereof 



^ Those to whom they were granted appear to have been the 
Lord Sandys and his son Thomas ; Sir William Fitzwilliam^ Sir 
Henry Guilford, Sir John Russel, and Sir Henry Norris. This 
suit to the cardinal seems to have been successfully brought about. 
Their pensions out of the revenues of the see of Winchester were 
settled on them for life by Act of Parliament, notwithstanding the 
just objection in the text. Rot. Pari, clxxxviii. Stat. 22 Hen. 
VIII. c. 22. 



CARDINAL WOLSEY. 297 

they assured him. Wherein Master Cromwell 
perceiving an occasion and a time given him to 
work for himself, and to bring the thing to pass 
which he long wished for ; intended to work so 
in this matter, to serve their desires, that he 
might the sooner bring his own enterprise to 
purpose. 

Then at his next resort to my lord, he moved 
him privily in this matter to have his counsel 
and his advice, and so by their witty heads it 
was devised that they should work together by 
one line, to bring by their policies Master 
Cromwell in place and estate, where he might 
do himself good and my lord much profit. 
Now began matters to work to bring Master 
Cromwell into estimation in such sort as was 
afterwards much to his increase of dignity ; and 
thus every man, having an occasion to sue for 
my lord's confirmation, made now earnest 
travail to Master Cromwell for these purposes, 
who refused none to make promise that he 
would do his best in that case. And having a 
great occasion of access to the king for the dis- 
position of divers lands, whereof he had the 
order and governance ; by means whereof, and 
by his witty demeanour, he grew continually into 
the king's favour, as ye shall hear after in this 
liistory. But first let us resort to the great 
business about the assurance of all these patents 



298 THE LIFE OF 

which the king hath given to divers noblemen 
and other of his servants, wherein Master Crom- 
well made a continuance of great suit to my 
lord for the same, that in process of time he 
served all their turns so that they had their 
purposes, and he their good wills. Thus rose 
his name and friendly acceptance with all men. 
The fame of his honesty and wisdom sounded so 
in the king's ears that, by reason of his access 
to the king, he perceived to be in him no less 
wisdom than fame had made of him report, for- 
asmuch as he had the government and receipts 
of those lands which I showed you before ; and 
the conference that he had with the king therein 
enforced the king to repute him a very wise 
man, and a meet instrument to serve his grace, 
as it after came to pass. 

Sir, now the lords thought long to remove 
my lord farther from the king, and out of his 
common trade ; wherefore among other of the 
lords, my Lord of Norfolk said to Master Crom- 
well, " Sir," quoth he, '* me thinketh that the 
cardinal your master maketh no haste north- 
ward ; show him, that if he go not away shortly, 
I will, rather than he should tarry still, tear him 
with my teeth. Therefore I would advise him 
to prepare him away as shortly as he can, or 
else he shall be sent forward." These words 
Master Cromwell reported to my lord at his 



CARDINAL WOLSEY. 299 

next repair unto him, who then had a just occa- 
sion to resort to him for the dispatch of the 
noblemen's and others' patents. And here I will 
leave of this matter, and show you of my lord's 
being at Richmond. 

My lord, having license of the king to repair 
and remove to Richmond, made haste to prepare 
him thitherward; and so he came and lodged 
within the great park there, which was a very 
pretty house and a neat, lacking no necessary 
rooms that to so small a house was convenient 
and necessary ; where was to the same a very 
proper garden garnished with divers pleasant 
walks and alleys : my lord continued in this 
lodge from the time that he came thither, shortly 
after Candlemas, until it was Lent, with a privy 
number of servants, because of the smallness of 
the house, and the rest of his family went to 
board wages. 

I will tell you a certain tale by the way of 
communication. Sir, as my lord was accus- 
tomed towards night to walk in the garden 
there, to say his service, it was my chance then 
to wait upon him there ; and standing still in 
an alley, whilst he in another walked with his 
chaplain, saying of his service ; as I stood, I 
espied certain images of beasts counterfeit in 
timber, standing in a corner under the lodge 
wall, to the which I repaired to behold. Among 



300 THE LIFE OF 

whom I saw there a dun cow, whereon I mused 
most, because it seemed me to be the most 
lively entaylled ^ among all the rest. My lord 
being, as I said, walking on the other side of 
the garden, perceived me, came suddenly upon 
me at my back, unawares, [and] said : " What 
have you espied here, that you so attentively 
look upon ?" " Forsooth, if it please your grace," 
quoth 1, " here I do behold these entaylled 
images ; the which I suppose were ordained 
for to be set up within some place about the 
king's palace: howbeit, sir, among them all, 
I have most considered the dun cow, [in] the 
which (as it seemeth me) the workman has most 
apertly showed his cunning." " Yea, marry, sir," 
quoth my lord, " upon this dun cow dependeth 
a certain prophecy, the which I will show you, 
for peradventure ye never heard of it before. 
There is a saying," quoth he, " that 

" When this cow rideth the bull. 
Then, priest, beware thy scull." 

[Of] which prophecy neither my lord that de- 
clared it, ne I that heard it, understood the 
eifect ; although that even then it was a-working 
to be brought to pass. For this cow the king 
gave as one of his beasts appertaining of anti- 

^ From the Ital. intagliare, to cut, carve, &c. 



CARDINAL WOLSEY. 301 

quity unto his earldom of Richmond, wliich 
was his ancient inheritance ; this prophecy was 
after expounded in this wise. This dun cow, 
because it was the king's beast, betokened the 
king; and the bull betokened Mistress Anne 
Boleyn, which was after queen, because that 
her father, Sir Thomas Boleyn, gave the same 
beast in his cognisance. So that when the king 
had married her, the which was then unknown 
to my lord, or to any other at that time, then 
was this prophecy tliought of all men to be ful- 
filled. For what a number of priests, both re- 
ligious and secular, lost their heads for offending 
of such laws as were then made to bring this 
[marriage] to effect, is not unknown to all the 
world. Therefore it was judged of all men that 
this prophecy was then fulfilled when the king 
and she were joined in marriage. Now, how 
dark and obscure riddles and prophecies be, 
you may behold in this same : for before it 
was brought to pass there was not the wisest 
prophesier could perfectly discuss it, as it is 
now come to effect and purpose. Trust there- 
fore, by mine advice, to no kind of dark riddles 
and prophecies, wherein ye may, as many have 
been, be deceived, and brought to destruction. 
And many times the imaginations and travailous 
business to avoid such dark and strange pro})he- 
cies, hath been the very occasion to bring the 



302 THE LIFE OF 

same the sooner to effect and perfection. There- 
fore let men beware to divine or assure them- 
selves to expound any such prophecies, for who 
so doeth shall first deceive themselves, and, se- 
condly, bring many into error ; the experience 
hath been lately experienced, the more pity. 
But if men will needs think themselves so wise, 
to be assured of such blind prophecies, and will 
work their wills therein, either in avoiding or in 
fulfilling the same, God send him well to speed, 
for he may as well, and much more sooner, take 
damage than avoid the danger thereof ! Let 
prophecies alone, a God's name, apply your vo- 
cation, and commit the exposition of such dark 
riddles and obscure prophecies to God, that dis- 
poseth them as his divine pleasure shall see 
cause to alter and change all your enterprises 
and imaginations to nothing, and deceive all 
your expectations, and cause you to repent your 
great folly, the which when ye feel the smart, 
will yourself confess the same to be both great 
folly and much more madness to trust in any 
such fantasies. Let God therefore dispose them, 
who governeth and punisheth according to man's 
deserts, and not to all men's judgments. 

You have heard herebefore what words the 
Duke of Norfolk had to Master Cromwell touch- 
ing my lord's going to the North to his benefice 
of York, at such time as Master Cromwell de- 



CARDINAL WOLSEY. 303 

clared the same to my lord, to whom my lord 
answered in this wise : " Marry, Thomas," quoth 
he, " then it is time to be going, if my Lord of 
Norfolk take it so. Therefore I pray you go to 
the king and move his highness in my behalf, 
and say that I would, with all my heart, go to 
my benefice at York, but for want of money ; 
desiring his grace to assist me with some money 
towards my journey. For ye may say that the 
last money that I received of his majesty hath 
been too little to pay my debts, compelled by 
his counsel so to do ; therefore to constrain me 
to the payment thereof, and his highness having 
all my goods, hath been too much extremity ; 
wherein I trust his grace will have a charitable 
respect. Ye may say also to my Lord of Norfolk, 
and other of the council, that I would depart if 
I had money." " Sir," quoth Master Cromwell, 
*' I will do my best." And after other com- 
munication he departed again, and went to 
London. 

My lord then in the beginning of Lent 
[removed] out of the Lodge into the Charter- 
house of Richmond, where he lay in a lodging, 
which Doctor Collet, sometime Dean of Paul's, 
had made for himself, until he removed north- 
ward, which was in the Passion Week after; 
and he had to the same house a secret gallery, 
which went out of his chamber into the Charter- 



304" THE LIFE OF 

house church, whither he resorted every day to 
their service ; and at afternoons he would sit in 
contemplation with one or other of the most 
ancient fathers of that house in his cell, who 
among them by their counsel persuaded him 
from the vain glory of this world, and gave him 
divers shirts of hair, the which he often wore 
afterward, whereof I am certain. And thus he 
continued for the time of his abode there in 
godly contemplation. 

Now when Master Cromwell came to the 
court, he chanced to move my Lord of Norfolk 
that my lord would gladly depart northward 
but for lack of money, wherein he desired his 
assistance to the king. Then went they both 
jointly to the king, to whom my Lord of Norfolk 
declared how my lord would gladly depart north- 
ward, if he wanted not money to bring him 
thither; the king thereupon referred the as- 
signment thereof to the council, whereupon they 
were in divers opinions. Some said he should 
have none, for he had sufficient of late delivered 
him ; some would he should have sufficient and 
enough ; and some contrariwise would he should 
have but a small sum ; and some thought it 
much against the council's honour, and much 
more against the king's high dignity to see him 
want the maintenance of his estate which the 
king had given him in this realm ; and [who] 



CARDINAL WOLSEY. 305 

also liatli been in siicli estimation with the king, 
and in great authority under him ; it should be 
rather a great slander in foreign realms to the 
king and his whole council, to see him want that 
lately had so much, and now so little. " There- 
fore, rather than he should lack," quoth one 
among them, " (although he never did me good 
or any pleasure), yet would I lay my plate to 
gage for him for a thousand pounds, rather than 
he should depart so simply as some would have 
him for to do. Let us do to him as we would 
be done unto ; considering his small offence, 
and his inestimable substance that he only hath 
departed withal the same, for satisfying of the 
king's pleasure, rather than he would stand in 
defence with the king in defending of his case, 
as he might justly have done, as ye all know. 
Let not malice cloak this matter whereby that 
justice and mercy may take no place; ye have 
all your pleasures fulfilled which ye have long 
desired, and now suffer conscience to minister 
unto him some liberality ; the day may come 
that some of us may be in the same case, ye 
have such alterations in persons, as well assured 
as ye suppose yourselves to be, and to stand 
upon as sure a ground, and what hangeth over 
our heads we know not ; I can say no more : 
now do as ye list." Then after all this tliey 
began again to consult in this matter, and after 

X 



306 THE LIFE OF 

long debating and reasoning about the same, it 
was concluded, that he should have by the way 
of prest4, a thousand marks out of Winchester 
Bishoprick, beforehand of his pension, which the 
king had granted him out of the same, for the 
king had resumed the whole revenues of the 
Bishoprick of Winchester into his own hands ; 
yet the king out of the same had granted divers 
great pensions unto divers noblemen and unto 
other of his council ; so that I do suppose, all 
things accompted, his part was the least. So 
that, when this determination was fully con- 
cluded, they declared the same to the king, who 
straightway [commanded] the said thousand 
marks to be delivered out of hand to Master 
Cromwell ; and so it was. The king, calling 
Master Cromwell to him secretly, bade him to 
resort to him again when he had received the 
said sum of money. And according to the same 
commandment he repaired again to the king; 
to whom the king said : *' Show my lord your 
master, although our council hath not assigned 
any sufficient sum of money to bear his charges, 
yet ye shall show him in my behalf, that I will 
send him a thousand pound, of my benevolence ; 
and tell him that he shall not lack, and bid him 
be of good cheer." Master Cromwell upon his 

■1 Prtt, Sommej)retec. Fr. A sum in advance. W. 



CARDINAL WOLSEY. 307 

knees most humbly thanked the king on my 
lord's behalf, for his great benevolence and 
noble heart towards my lord : " those comfortable 
words of your grace," quoth he, " shall rejoice 
him more than three times the value of your 
noble reward." And therewith departed from 
the king and came to my lord du'ectly to Rich- 
mond ', to whom he delivered the money, and 
showed him all the arguments in the council, 
which ye have heard before, with the progress 
of the same ; and of what money it was, and 
whereof it was levied, which the council sent 
him ; and of the money which the king sent 
him, and of his comfortable words ; whereof my 
lord rejoiced not a little, and [was] greatly com- 
forted. And after the receipt of this money my 
lord consulted with Master Cromwell about his 
departure, and of his journey, with the order 
thereof. 

Then my lord prepared all things with speed 
for his journey into the North, and sent to 
London for livery clothes for his servants that 
should ride with him thither. Some he refused, 
such as he thought were not meet to serve ; and 
some again of their own mind desired him of his 
favour to tarry still here in the south, being 
very loath to abandon their native country, their 
parents, wives, and children, [whom] he most 
gladly licensed with good will and favour, and 

X 2 



308 THE LIFE OF 

rendered unto them his hearty thanks for their 
painful service and long tarriance with him in 
his troublesome decay and overthrow. So that 
now all things being furnished towards this 
journey, he took the same in the beginning of 
the Passion Week, before Easter ; and so rode 
to a place, then the abbot's of Westminster, 
called Hendon ; and the next day he removed 
to a place called the Rye ; where my Lady 
Parrey lay ; the next day he rode to Royston, 
and lodged in the monastery there ; and the 
next he removed to Huntingdon, and there 
lodged in the Abbey ; and from thence he re- 
moved to Peterborough, and there lodged also 
within the Abbey, being then Palm Sunday, 
where he made his abode until the Thursday in 
Easter week, with all his train ^; whereof the 
most part went to board wages in the town, 
having twelve carts to carry his stuff of his own, 
which came from his college in Oxford, where 
he had three score carts to carry such necessaries 
as belonged to his buildings there. Upon Palm 
Sunday he went in procession, with the monks, 
bearing his palm ; setting forth God's service 
right honourably, with such singing men as 



5 " His train was in number one hundred and threescore per- 
sons." This addition is in Dr. Wordsworth's edition and the 
later MSS. 



CARDINAL WOLSEY. 309 

he then had remaining with him. And upon 
Maundy Thursday he made his Maundy in our 
Lady's Chapel, having fifty-nine^ poor men, 
whose feet he washed, wiped, and kissed ; each 
of these poor men had twelve pence in money, 
three ells of canvass to make them shirts, a pair 
of new shoes, a cast of bread, three red herrings, 
and three white herrings, and the odd person 
had two shillings. Upon Easter Day in the 
morning he rode to the resurrection 7, and that 



" He was now fifty-nine years old. 

7 The book of Ceremonies before cited, which was compiled in 
the reign of Henry VIII. observes : " Upon Easter Day in the 
morning the ceremonies of the resurrection be very laudable, to put 
us in remembrance of Christ's resurrection, which is the cause of 
our justification." Strype's Eccles. Memorials, v. i. p. 294.. Re- 
cords. What these ceremonies were we may collect from the Ru- 
brics upon that day, in the Processionale secundum usuvi Sarum. 
fol. 72. edit. 1555 ; which are to this effect : On Easter Day, before 
mass, and before the ringing of the bells, let the clerks assemble, 
and all the tapers in the church be lighted. Then two persons 
shall draw nigh to the sepulchre, and after it is censed let them 
take the cross out of the sepulchre, and one of them begin Christus 
resurgens. Then let the procession commence. After this they 
shall all worship (adorent) the cross. Then let all the crucifixes 
and images in the church be unveiled, &c. &c. In like manner 
Good Friday also had its peculiar ceremonies. Bishop Longland 
closes his sermon preached on that day before King Henry VIII. 
A. u. 1538, in the following manner: " In meane season I shall 
exhorte you all in our Lord God, as of old cuslome hath here this 
dai/ bene vxed, every one of you or ye departe, with moost entire 
devocyon, knelynge tofore our Savyour Lorde God, this our Jesus 
Chryst, whichc hath suffered soo muche for us, to whomc we are 
soo muche bounden, whoo lyeth in yonder sepulchre ; in honourc 
of hym, of his passyon and deathc, and of liis five woundcs, to say 
five Patcr-nostirs, live Avcs, and one Crcdc : that it may please 



310 THE LIFE OF 

day he went in procession in his cardinal's 
vesture, with his hat and hood on his head, and 
he himself sang there the high mass very de- 
voutly ; and granted clean remission to all the 
hearers^ ; and there continued [he] all the holi- 
days. 

My lord continuing at Peterborough after this 
manner, intending to remove from thence, sent 
me to Sir William Fitzwilliams, a knight, which 
dwelt within three or four miles of Peterborough, 
to provide him there a lodging until Monday 
next following, on his journey northward. And 
being with him, to whom I declared my lord's 
request, and he being thereof very glad, rejoiced 
not a little that it would please my lord to visit 
his house in his way ; saying, that he should be 
most heartiliest welcome of any man alive, the 
king's majesty excepted ; and that he should not 
need to discharge the carriage of any of his stuff 
for his own use during the time of his being 
there ; but have all things furnished ready against 
his coming to occupy, his own bed excepted. 
Thus upon my report made to my lord at my 
return, he rejoiced of my message, commanding 



his mercifull goodness to make us parteners of the merites of this 
his most gloryous passyon, bloode^ and deathe." Imprynted by 
Thomas Petyt. See also Michael Wood's Dialogue or Familiar 
Talks. A. D. 1554. Signat. D. 3. W. 
^ See abovcj page 158, Dr. Wordsworth's note. 



CARDINAL \VOLSEY. 311 

me therein to give warning to all his officers and 
sei'vants to prepare themselves to remove from 
Peterborough upon Thursday next. Then every 
man made all things in such readiness as was 
convenient, paying in the town for all things as 
they had taken of any person for their own use, 
for which cause my lord caused a proclamation 
to be made in the town, that if any person or 
persons in the town or country there were 
offended or grieved against any of my lord's 
servants, that they should resort to my lord's 
officers, of whom they should have redress, and 
truly answered as the case justly required. So 
that, all things being furnished, my lord took 
his journey from Peterborough upon the Thurs- 
day in Easter week, to Master Fitzwilliams, 
where he was joyously received, and had right 
worthy and honourable entertainment at the 
only charge and expense of the said Master 
Fitzwilliams, all [the] time of his being therc^. 
The occasion that moved Master Fitzwilliams 
thus to rejoice of my lord's being in his house 
was, that he sometime being a merchant of 
London and sheriff there, fell in debate with 



" In Mr. Ellis's very interesting collection of Historical Letters, 
vol. i. p. 176, there is an extract of a letter from Sir William 
Fitzwilliams, then on a mission in France, relating a conversation 
he had with the French king upon his h.earing the Duke of Buck- 
ingham wus ill tlic Tower. Whh the Cardinars answer. 



312 THE LIFE OF 

the city of London upon a grudge between the 
aldermen of the bench and him, upon a new 
corporation that he would erect of a new mystery 
called Merchant Taylors, contrary to the opinion 
of divers of the bench of aldermen of the city, 
which caused him to give and surrender his 
cloak, and departed from London, and inhabited 
within the country ; and against the malice of 
all the said aldermen and other rulers in the 
commonweal of the city, my lord defended him, 
and retained him into service, whom he made 
first his treasurer of his house, and then after 
his high chamberlain ; and in conclusion, for 
his wisdom, gravity, port, and eloquence, being 
a gentleman of a comely stature, made him one 
of the king's counsel : and [he] so continued 
all his life afterward. Therefore in consideration 
of all these gratitudes received at my lord's 
hands, as well in his trouble as in his preferment, 
was most gladest like a faithful friend of good 
remembrance to requite him with the semblable 
gratuity, and right joys that he had any occasion 
to minister some pleasure, such as lay then in 
his power to do. 

Thus my lord continued there until the 
Monday next ; where lacked no good cheer of 
costly viands, both of wine and other goodly 
entertainment ; so that upon the said Monday 
my lord departed from thence unto Stamford j 



CARDINAL VVOLSEY. 313 

where he lay all that night. And the next day 
he removed from thence unto Grantham, and 
was lodged m a gentleman's house, called Master 
Hall. And the next day he rode to Newark, 
and lodged in the castle all that night ; the next 
day he rode to Southwell, a place of my lord's 
within three or four miles of Newark, where he 
intended to continue all that summer, as he did 
after. 

Here I must declare to you a notable tale of 
communication which was done at Master Fitz- 
williams before his departure from thence, be- 
tween [my lord] and me, the which was this : 
Sir, my lord being in the garden at Master Fitz- 
williams, walking, saying of his evensong with 
his chaplain, I being there giving attendance 
upon him, his evensong finished, [he] com- 
manded his chaplain that bare up the train of 
his gown whilst he walked, to deliver me the 
same, and to go aside when he had done ; and 
after the chaplain was gone a good distance, he 
said unto me in this wise, " Ye have been late 
at London," quoth he ; " Forsooth, my lord," 
quoth I, " not since that I was there to buy 
your liveries for your servants." " And what 
news was there then," quoth he ; " heard you 
no communication there of me ? I pray you tell 
me." Then perceiving that I had a good oc- 
casion to talk my muid plainly unto him, [1] 



314 THE LIFE OF 

said, " Sir, if it please your grace, it was my 
chance to be at a dinner in a certain place within 
the city, where 1, among divers other honest and 
worshipful gentlemen happed to sit, which were 
for the most part of my old familiar acquaintance, 
wherefore they were the more bolder to enter in 
communication with me, understanding that I 
was still your grace's servant ; [they] asked me 
a question, which I could not well assoii them." 
*' What was that ?" quoth my lord. " Forsooth, 
sir," quoth I, " first they asked me how ye did, 
and how ye accepted your adversity, and trouble, 
and the loss of your goods ; to the which I an- 
swered, that you were in health (thanks be to 
God), and took all things in good part ; and so 
it seemed me, that they were all your indifferent 
friends lamenting your decay, and loss of your 
room and goods, doubting much that the sequel 
thereof could not be good in the commonwealth. 
For often changing of such officers which be fat 
fed, into the hands of such as be lean and hungry 
for riches, [they] will sure travail by all means 
to get abundance, and so the poor commons be 
pillaged and extorted for greedy lucre of riches 
and treasure : they said that ye were full fed, 
and intended now much to the advancement of 
the king's honour and the commonwealth. Also 
they marvelled much that ye, being of so ex- 
cellent a wit and high discretion, would so simply 



CARDINAL WOLSEY. 315 

confess yourself guilty in the premunii'e, wherein 
ye might full well have stood in the trial of your 
case. For they understood, by the report of 
some of the king's learned counsel, that your 
case well considered, ye had great wrong : to 
the which I could make, as me thought, no suf- 
ficient answer, but said, *' That I doubt not your 
so doing was upon some greater consideration 
than my wit could understand." " Is this," 
quoth he, " the opinion of wise men?" " Yea, 
forsooth, my lord," quoth I, " and almost of all 
other men." " Well, then," quoth he, " I see 
that their wisdoms perceive not the ground of 
the matter that moved me so to do. For I con- 
sidered, that my enemies had brought the matter 
so to pass against me, and conveyed it so, that 
they made it the king's case, and caused the 
king to take the matter into his own hands and 
quarrel, and after that he had upon the occasion 
thereof seized all my goods and possessions into 
his demayns, and then the quarrel to be his, 
rather than yield, or take a foil in the law, and 
thereby restore to me all my goods again, he 
would sooner (by the procurement of my enemies 
and evil willers) imagine my utter undoing and 
destruction ; whereof the most ease therein had 
been for me perpetual imprisonment. And rather 
than I would jeopard so far, or put my life in any 
such hazard, yet had I most liefest to yield and 



316 



THE LIFE OF 



confess the matter, committing the sole sum 
thereof, as I did, unto the king's clemency and 
mercy, and live at large, like a poor vicar, than 
to lie in prison with all the goods and honours 
that I had. And therefore it was the most best 
way for me, all things considered, to do as I have 
done, than to stand in trial with the king, for 
he would have been loath to have been noted a 
wrong doer, and in my submission, the king, I 
doubt not, had a great remorse of conscience, 
wherein he would rather pity me than malign 
me. And also there was a continual serpentine 
enemy about the king that would, I am well 
assured, if I had been found stiff necked, [have] 
called continually upon the king in his ear (I 
mean the night-crow) with such a vehemency 
that I should with the help of her assistance 
[have] obtained sooner the king's indignation 
than his lawful favour : and his favour once lost 
(which I trust at this present I have) would 
never have been by me recovered. Therefore 
I thought it better for me to keep still his loving 
favour, with loss of my goods and dignities, than 
to win my goods and substance with the loss of 
his love and princely favour, which is but only 
death : Quia indignatio principis mors est. And 
this was the special ground and cause that I 
yielded myself guilty in the premunire ; which 
I perceive all men knew not, wherein since I 



CARDINAL WOLSEY. 317 

understand the king hatli conceived a certain 
prick of conscience ; who took to himself the 
matter more grievous in his secret stomach than 
all men knew, for he knew whether I did offend 
him therein so grievously as it was made or no, 
to whose conscience I do commit my cause, 
truth, and equity." And thus we left the sub- 
stance of all this communication ; although we 
had much more talk : yet is this sufficient to 
cause you to understand as well the cause of his 
confession in his offence, as also the cause of the 
loss of all his goods and treasure. 

Now let us return where we left, my lord 
being in the castle of Newark, intending to ride 
to Southwell, which was four miles from thence, 
took now his journey thitherward against supper. 
Where he was fain for lack of reparation of the 
bishop's place, which appertained to the see of 
York, to be lodged in a prebendary's house 
against the said place, and there kept house 
until Whitsuntide next, against which time he 
removed into the place, newly amended and re- 
paired, and there continued the most part of the 
summer, surely not without great resort of the 
most worshipfullest gentlemen of the country, 
and divers other, of whom they were most gladly 
entertained, and had of him the best cheer he 
could devise for them, whose gentle and familiar 



318 THE LIFE OF 

behaviour with them caused him to be greatly be- 
loved and esteemed through the whole country. 
He kept a noble house, and plenty of both 
meat and drink for all comers, both for rich and 
poor, and much alms given at his gates. He 
used much charity and pity among his poor 
tenants and other; although the fame thereof 
was no pleasant sound in the ears of his enemies, 
and of such as bare him no good will, howbeit 
the common people will report as they find 
cause ; for he was much more familiar among 
all persons than he was accustomed, and most 
gladdest when he had an occasion to do them 
good. He made many agreements and con- 
cords between gentleman and gentleman, and 
between some gentlemen and their wives that 
had been long asunder, and in great trouble, 
and divers other agreements between other per- 
sons ; making great assemblies for the same pur- 
pose, and feasting of them, not sparing for any 
costs, where he might make a peace and amity ; 
which purchased him much love^ and friendship 
in the country. 

» The favourable representation given of this portion of the 
cardinal's life, notwithstanding w^hat is said by Fox, p. 908, is fully 
confirmed by an authority which cannot be suspected of partiality 
to his memory, that of a State Book, which came out from the 
office of the king's printer in the year 1536, intituled A Remedy 
for Sedition. "Who was lesse beloved in the Northe than my 



CARDINAL WOLSEY. 319 

It chanced that upon Corpus Christi eve, after 
supper, [my lord] commanded me to prepare all 
things for him in a readiness against the next 
day, for he intended to sing high mass in the 
minster that day ; and I, not forgetting his com- 
mandments, gave like warning to all his officers 
of his house, and other of my fellows, to foresee 
that all things appertaining to their rooms were 
fully furnished to my lord's honour. This done 
I went to my bed, where I was scantly asleep 
and warm, but that one of the porters came to 
my chamber door, calling upon me, and said, 
there was two gentlemen at the gate that would 
gladly speak with my lord from the king. With 
that I arose up and went incontinent unto the 
gate with the porter, demanding what they were 



lord cartlynallj God have his sowle, before he was amonges them ? 
Who better beloved, after he had ben there a whyle ? We hate 
oft times whom we have good cause to love. It is a wonder to 
see howe they were turned ; howe of utter enemyes they beeam 
his dere frendes. He gave byshops a ryght good ensample, howe 
they might wyn mens hartys. There was few holy dayes, but he 
would ride five or six myle from his howse, nowe to this parysh 
churche, nowe to that, and there cause one or other of his doctours 
to make a sennone unto the people. He sat amonges them, and 
sayd masse before all the paryshe. He sawe why churches were 
made. He began to restore them to their ryght and proprc use. 
He broughte his dinner with hym, and bad dyvers of the parish to 
it. He enquired, whether there was any debate or grudge bc- 
twecne any of them ; yf there were, after dinner he scnte for the 
parties to the churchc, and made them all one. Men say well that 
do well. Godde's lawcs shal never be so set by as they ought, 
before they be well knowcn." Signal. E. 2. W. 



320 THE LIFE- OF 

that so fain [would] come in. They said unto 
me, that there was Master Brereton, one of the 
gentlemen of the king's privy chamber, and 
Master Wrotherly, who were come from the 
king empost, to speak with my lord. Then 
having understanding what they were, I caused 
the porter to let them in. And after their entry 
they desired me to speak with my lord without 
delay, for they might not tarry ; at whose re- 
quest I repaired to my lord's chamber, and 
waked him, who was asleep. But when he heard 
me speak, he demanded of me what I would 
have. *' Sir," quoth I, " there be beneath in the 
porter's lodge. Master Brereton, gentleman of 
the king's privy chamber, and Master Wrotherly, 
come from the king to speak with you : they will 
not tarry ; therefore they beseech your grace to 
speak with you out of hand." " Well then," 
quoth my lord, " bid them come up into my 
dining chamber, and I will prepare myself to 
come to them." Then I resorted to them again, 
and showed them that my lord desired them to 
come up unto him, and he would talk with them, 
with a right good will. They thanked me, and 
went with me unto my lord, and as soon as they 
perceived him, being in his night apparel, did 
to him humble reverence ; whom he took by 
the hands, demanding of them, how the king 
his sovereign lord did. " Sir," said they, " right 



CARDINAL WOLSEV. 321 

well in health and merry, thanks be unto our 
Lord." " Sir," quoth they, " we must desire 
you to talk with you apart." " With a right 
good will," quoth my lord, who drew them aside 
into a great window, and there talked with them 
secretly ; and after long talk they took out of a 
male a certain coffer covered with green velvet, 
and bound with bars of silver and gilt, with a 
lock of the same, having a key which was gilt, 
with the which they opened the same chest; 
out of the which they took a certain instrument 
or writing, containing more than one skin of 
parchment, having many great seals hanging at 
it, whereunto they put more wax for my lord's 
seal ; the which my lord sealed with his own seal, 
and subscribed his name to the same ; and that 
done they would needs depart, and (forasmuch 
as it was after midnight) my lord desired them 
to tarry, and take a bed. They thanked him, 
and said they might in no wise tarry, for they 
would with all speed to the Earl of Shrewsbury's 
directly without let, because they would be there 
or ever he stirred in the morning. And my 
lord, perceiving their hasty speed, caused them 
to eat such cold meat as there was in store w^ithin 
the house, and to drink a cup or two of wine. 
And that done, he gave each of them four old 
sovereigns of gold, desiring them to take it in 
gree^ saying, that if he had been of greater 

Y 



322 THE LIFE OF 

ability, their reward should have been better ; 
and so taking their leave they departed. And 
after they were departed, as I heard say, they 
were not contented with their reward. Indeed 
they were not none of his indifferent friends, 
which caused them to accept it so disdainously. 
Howbeit, if they knew what little store of money 
he had at that present, they would I am sure, 
being but his indifferent friends, have given him 
hearty thanks : but nothing is more lost or cast 
away than is such things which be given to such 
ingrate persons. My lord went again to bed; 
and yet, all his watch and disturbance that he 
had that night notwithstanding, he sang High 
Mass the next day as he appointed before. There 
was none in all his house [besides myself and the 
porter] that knew of the coming or going of 
these two gentlemen ; and yet there lay within 
the house many worshipful strangers. 

After this sort and manner my lord continued 
at Southwell, until the latter end of grease time ; 
at which time he intended to remove to Scroby, 
which was another house of the Bishoprick of 
York. And against the day of his removing, 
he caused all his officers to prepare, as well for 
provision to be made for him there, as also for 
carriage of his stuff, and other matters concern- 
ing his estate. His removing and intent was 
not so secret, but that it was known abroad in 



CARDINAL AVOLSEY. 323 

[the] country ; which was lamentable to all his 
neighbours about Southwell, and as it was la- 
mentable unto them, so was it as much joy to 
his neighbours about Scroby. 

Against the day of his removing divers knights 
and other gentlemen of worship in the country 
came to him to Southwell, intending to accom- 
pany and attend upon him in that journey the 
next day, and to conduct him through the forest 
unto Scroby. But he being of their purpose 
advertised, how they did intend to have lodged 
a great stag or twain for him by the way, pur- 
posely to show him all the pleasure and disport 
they could devise, and having, as I said, thereof 
intelligence, was very loath to receive any such 
honour and disport at their hands, not knowing- 
how the king would take it ; and being well 
assured that his enemies would rejoice much to 
understand that he would take upon him any 
such presumption, whereby they might find an 
occasion to inform the king how sumptuous and 
pleasant he was, notwithstanding his adversity 
and overthrow, and so to bring the king into a 
wrong opinion [of him, and caused] small hope 
of reconcilement, but rather that he sought a 
mean to obtain the favour of the country to with- 
stand the king's proceedings, with divers such 
imaginations, wherein he might rather sooner 
catch displeasure than favour and honour. And 

Y 2 



3M THE LIFE OF 

also he was loath to make the worshipful gentle- 
men privy to this his imagination, lest peradven- 
ture they should conceive some toy or fantasy in 
their heads by means thereof, and so to eschew 
their accustomed access, and absent themselves 
from him, which should be as much to his grief 
as the other was to his comfort. Therefore he 
devised this mean way, as hereafter followeth, 
which should rather be taken for a laughing dis- 
port than otherwise : first he called me unto him 
secretly at night, going to his rest, and com- 
manded me in anywise most secretly that night 
to cause six or seven horses, besides his mule 
for his own person, to be made ready by the 
break of the day for him and such persons as he 
appointed to ride with him to an abbey called 
Welbeck^, where he intended to lodge by the 
way to Scroby, willing me to be also in a readi- 
ness to ride with him, and to call him so early 
that he might be on horseback, after he had 
heard mass, by the breaking of the day. Sir, 
what will you more ? All things being accom- 
plished according to his commandment, and the 
same finished and done, he, with a small number 
before appointed, mounted upon his mule, set- 
ting forth by the breaking of the day towards 



5 In the more recent MS. and in Dr. Wordsworth's edition, 
Newsted Abhey." 



CARDINAL WOLSEY. 325 

Welbeck, wliicli is about sixteen miles from 
thence ; whither my lord and we came before 
six of the clock in the morning, and so went 
straight to his bed, leaving all the gentlemen 
strangers in their beds at Southwell, nothing 
privy of my lord's secret departure, who ex- 
pected his uprising until it was eight of the 
clock. But after it was known to them and to 
all the rest there remaining behind him, then 
every man went to horseback, galloping after, 
supposing to overtake him. But he was at his 
rest in Welbeck or ever they rose out of their 
beds in Southwell, and so their chief hunting 
and coursing of the great stag was disappointed 
and dashed. But at their thither resort to my 
lord, sitting at dinner, the matter was jested, 
and laughed out merrily, and all the matter well 
taken. 

My lord the next day removed from thence, 
to whom resorted divers gentlemen of my lord 
the Earl of Shrewsbury's servants, to desire my 
lord, in their master's name, to hunt in a park of 
the earl's called Worksop Park, the which was 
within a mile of Welbeck, and the very best and 
next^ way for my lord to travel through on his 
journey, where much plenty of game was laid in 
a readiness to show him pleasure. Howbeit he 

=• Next, i. e. nearest. 



326 THE LIFE OF 

thanked my lord their master for his gentleness, 
and them for their pains ; saying that he was no 
meet man for any such pastime, being a man 
otherwise disposed, such pastimes and pleasures 
were meet for such noblemen as delight therein. 
Nevertheless he could do no less than to account 
my Lord of Shrewsbury to be much his friend, 
in whom he found such gentleness and nobleness 
in his honourable offer, to whom he rendered his 
most lowly thanks. But in no wise they could 
entreat him to hunt. Although the worshipful 
gentlemen being in his company provoked him 
all that they could do thereto, yet he would not 
consent, desiring them to be contented ; saying, 
that he came not into the country, to frequent 
or follow any such pleasures or pastimes, but 
only to attend to a greater care that he had in 
hand, which was his duty, study, and pleasure. 
And with such reasons and persuasions he pa- 
cified them for that time, Howbeit yet as he 
rode through the park, both my Lord of Shrews- 
bury's servants, and also the foresaid gentlemen 
moved him once again, before whom the deer 
lay very fair for all pleasant hunting and coursing. 
But it would not be ; but [he] made as much 
speed to ride through the park as he could. 
And at the issue out of the park he called the 
earPs gentlemen and the keepers unto him, de- 
siring them to have him commended to my lord 



CARDINAL WOLSEY. 327 

their master, thanking him for his most honoura- 
ble offer and good will, trusting shortly to visit 
him at his own house : and gave the keepers 
forty shillings for their pains and diligence who 
conducted him through the park. And so rode 
to another abbey called Rufford Abbey [to din- 
ner] ; and after he rode to Blythe Abbey, where 
he lay all night. And the next day he came to 
Scroby, where he continued until after Michael- 
mas, ministering many deeds of charity. Most 
commonly every Sunday (if the weather did 
serve) he would travel unto some parish church 
thereabout, and there would say his divine ser- 
vice, and either hear or say mass himself, causing 
some one of his chaplains to preacli unto the 
people. And that done, he would dine in som^e 
honest house of that town, where should be 
distributed to the poor a great alms, as well of 
meat and drink as of money to supply the want 
of sufficient meat, if the number of the poor did 
so exceed of necessity. And thus with other 
good deeds practising and exercising during his 
abode there at Scroby, as making of love-days 
and agreements between party and party, being 
then at variance, he daily frequented himself 
there about sucli business and deeds of honest 
charity. 

Then about the feast of St. Michael next en- 
suing my lord took liis journey towards Cawood 



328 THE LIFE OF 

Castle, the which is within seven miles of York; 
and passing thither he lay two nights and a day 
at St. Oswald's Abbey, where he himself con- 
firmed children in the church, from eight of the 
clock in the morning until twelve of the clock 
at noon. And making a short dinner, resorted 
again to the church at one of the clock, and there 
began again to confirm more children until four 
of the clock, where he was at the last constrained 
for weariness to sit down in a chair, the num- 
ber of the children was such. That done, he 
said his even song, and then went to supper, 
and rested him there all that night. And the 
next morning he applied himself to depart to- 
wards Cawood ; and or ever he departed, he 
confirmed almost a hundred children more ; and 
then rode on his journey. And by the way there 
were assembled at a stone cross standing upon 
a green, within a quarter of a mile of Ferry- 
bridge, about the number of two hundred chil- 
dren, to confirm ; where he alighted, and never 
removed his foot until he had confirmed them 
all ; and then took his mule again and rode to 
Cawood, where he lay long after with much ho- 
nour and love of the country, both of the wor- 
shipful and of the simple, exercising himself in 
good deeds of charity, and kept there an ho- 
nourable and plentiful house for all comers ; and 
also built and repaired the castle, which was 



CARDINAL WOLSEY. 329 

then greatly decayed, having a great mtdtitude 
of artificers and labourers, above the number of 
three hundred persons, daily in wages. 

And lying there, he had intelligence by the 
gentlemen of the country, that used to repair 
unto him, that there was sprung a great variance 
and deadly hate between Sir Richard Tempest 
and Mr. Brian Hastings, then being but a squire, 
but after made knight, between whom was like to 
ensue great murder, unless some good mean might 
be found to redi'ess the inconvenience that was 
most likeliest to ensue. My lord being thereof 
advertised, lamenting the case, made such means 
by his wisdom and letters, with other persua- 
sions, that these two gentlemen were content to 
resort to my lord to Cawood, and there to abide 
liis order, high and low. Then was there a day 
appointed of their assembly before my lord, at 
which day they came not without great number 
on each part. Wherefore against [that] day, my 
lord had required many worshipful gentlemen to 
be there present, to assist him with their wis- 
doms to appease these two worthy gentlemen, 
being at deadly feud. And to see the king's 
peace kept, commanding no more of their num- 
ber to enter into the castle with these two gen- 
tlemen than six persons of each of their menial 
servants, and all the rest to remain without in 
the town, or where they listed to repair. And 



330 THE LIFE OF 

my lord himself issuing out of the gates, call- 
ing the number of both parties before him, 
straightly charging them most earnestly to ob- 
serve and keep the king's peace, in the king's 
name, upon their perils, without either bragging 
or quarreling either with other ; and caused them 
to have both beer and wine sent them into the 
town ; and then returned again into the castle, 
being about nine of the clock. And because he 
would have these gentlemen to dine with him at 
his own table, thought it good in avoiding of 
further inconvenience to appease their rancour 
before. Whereupon he called them into his 
chapel ; and there, with the assistance of the 
other gentlemen, he fell into communication with 
the matter, declaring unto them the dangers and 
mischiefs that through their wilfulness and folly 
were most likeliest to ensue ; with divers other 
good exhortations. Notwithstanding, the parties 
laying and alleging many things for their de- 
fence, sometime adding each to other stout and 
despiteful words of defiance, the which my lord 
and the other gentlemen had much ado to qua- 
lify, their malice was so great. Howbeit, at 
length, with long continuance and wise argu- 
ments, and deep persuasions made by my lord, 
they were agreed, and finally accorded about 
four of the clock at afternoon ; and so made them 
friends. And, as it seemed, they both rejoiced, 



CARDINAL VVOLSEY. 381 

and were right well contented therewith, to the 
great comfort of all the other worshipful gentle- 
men, causing them to shake hands, and to go 
arm in arm to dinner ; and so went to dinner, 
though it was very late to dine'^, yet notwith- 
standing they dined together with the other 
gentlemen at my lord's table, where they drank 
lovingly each to other, with countenance of great 
amity. After dinner my lord caused them to dis- 
charge their routs and assembly that remained 
in the town, and to retain with them no more 
servants than they w^ere accustomed most com- 
monly to ride with. And that done, these gen- 
tlemen, fulfilling his commandment, tarried at 



* The prevailing hour of dinner with our ancestors appears to 
have been much earlier. In the Northumberland Household Book 
it is said, " to X of the clock that my lord goes to dinner." 

" With us," says Harrison, in the Description of England, pre- 
fixed to Holinshed's Chronicle, p. 171, " the Nobilitie, Gentrie, 
and Students do ordinarilie go to dinner at eleven before noone, 
and to supper at five, or betweene five and six at afternoone. The 
merchants dine and sup seldome before twelve at noone, and six 
at night, especiallie in London. The husbandmen dine also at 
high noone, as they call it, and sup at seven or eight : but out of 
the tearme in our Universities the scholars dine at ten. As for the 
poorest sort, they generally dine and sup when they may : so that 
to talke of their order of repast, it were but a needlesse matter " 

" Theophilus. You wcnte to diner betyme I perccave. Euse- 
bius. Even as I doe commonly, when I have no busynes, betwene 
nyne and ten ; me thinkes it is a good houre : for by that mcanes 
I save a breakfast, whyche for such idlers as I am, is most fittest." 
Dialogue between Euscbiux and Thcopliilus. Signal. B \. A. D. 
1556. W. 



332 THE LIFE OF 

Cawood, and lay there all night ; whom my lord 
entertained in such sort that they accepted his 
noble heart in great worthiness [and friendship,] 
trusting to have of him a special jewel in their 
country : having him in great estimation and fa- 
vour, as it appeared afterward by their behaviour 
and demeanour towards him. 

It is not to be doubted but that the worshipful 
persons, as doctors and prebendaries of the close 
of York, would and did resort unto him accord- 
ing to their duties, as unto their father and pa- 
tron of their spiritual dignities being at his first 
coming into the country, their church of York 
being within seven miles. Wherefore ye shall 
understand that Doctor Hickden, dean of the 
church of York ^, with the treasurer, and divers 
other head officers of the same repaired to my 
lord, welcoming him most joyously into the coun- 
try ; saying, that it was to them no small comfort 
to see him among them, as their chief head, which 
hath been so long absent from them, being all 
that while like fatherless children comfortless, 
trusting shortly to see him among them in his 
own church. *' It is," quoth he, " the especial 
cause of all my travel into this country, not only 
to be among you for a time, but also to spend 



Dr. Brian Higden at that time bore the office. 



CARDINAL WOLSEY. 333 

my life with you as a very father, and as a mu- 
tual brother." " Sir, then," quoth they, *' ye must 
understand that the ordinary rules of our church 
hath been of an ancient custom, whereof although 
ye be head and chief governor, yet be ye not 
so well acquainted with them as we be. There- 
fore, we shall under the supportation of your 
gi'ace, declare some part thereof to you, as well 
of our ancient customs as of the laws and usage 
of the same. Therefore ye shall understand that 
where ye do intend to repair unto us, the old law 
and custom of our church hath been, that the 
archbishop being our chief head and pastor, as 
your grace now be, might ne ought not to come 
above the choir door, nor have any stall in the 
choir, until he by due order were there stalled. 
For, if ye should happen to die before your 
stallation, ye shall not be buried above in the 
choir, but in the body of the same church be- 
neath. Therefore we shall, una voce, require 
your grace in the name of all other our brethren, 
that ye would vouchsafe to do herein as your 
noble predecessors and honourable fathers hath 
done ; and that ye will not infringe or violate any 
of our laudable ordinances and constitutions of 
our church, to the observance and preservation 
whereof we be obliged, by virtue of an oath at our 
first admittance, to see them observed and ful- 
filled to the uttermost of our powers, with divers 



334} THE LIFE OF 

other matters remainmg of record in our treasury 
house among other things." " Those records," 
quoth my lord, " would I gladly see ; and these 
seen and digested, I shall then show you further 
of my mind." And thus of this matter they 
ceased communication, and passed forth in other 
matters ; so that my lord assigned them a day to 
bring in their records. At which day they brought 
with them their register book of records, wherein 
was written their constitutions and ancient rules, 
whereunto all the fathers and ministers of the 
church of York were most chiefly bound, both to 
see it done and performed, and also to perform 
and observe the same themselves. And when my 
lord had seen, read, and considered the effect of 
their records, and debated with them substan- 
tially therein, he determined to be stalled there 
in the Minster the next Monday after Allhallown 
day. Against which day there was made neces- 
sary preparation for the furniture thereof, but 
not in so sumptuous a wise as his predecessors 
did before him ; ne yet in such a sort as the com- 
mon fame was blown abroad of him to his great 
slander, and to the reporters much more dis- 
honesty, to forge such lies and blasphemous 
reports, wherein there is nothing more untrue. 
The truth whereof I perfectly know, for I was 
made privy to the same, and sent to York to 
foresee all things, [and] to prepare according for 



CARDINAL WOLSEY. 335 

the same, which should have been much more 
mean and base tlian all other of his predecessors 
heretofore hath done. 

It came so to pass, that upon Allhallown day, 
one of the head officers of the church, which 
should, by virtue of his office, have most doings 
in this stallation, [was] to dine with my lord at 
Cawood ; and sitting at dinner they fell in com- 
munication of the order of his stallation, who 
said to my lord that he ought to go upon cloth 
from St. James's chapel (standing without the 
gates of the city of York) unto the minster, the 
which should be distributed among the poor. 
My lord, hearing this, made answer to the same 
in this wise. " Although," quoth he, " that our 
predecessors went upon cloth right sumptuously, 
we do intend, God willing, to go afoot from 
tlience without any such glory 6, in the vamps of 
our hosen. For I take God to be my very judge 
that I presume not to go thither for any triumph 



^ The Cardinal perhaps remembered the credit which was gained 
by his successful rival Cardinal Adrian, who being elected to the 
papacy by the Conclave, through the influence of the emperor 
Charles V. " before his entry into the cittie of Rome (as we are told 
by one of Sir Thomas More's biographers), putting off his hose and 
shoes, and as I have credibly heard it reported, bare-footed and 
bare-legged, passed through the streets towards his Palace, with 
such humbleness, that all the people had him in great reverence." 
Harpsfield's Life of Si?- Thomas More. Lambeth MSS. No. 827, 
fol. 12. W. 



836 THE LIFE OF 

or vain glory, but only to fulfil the observance 
and rules of the church, to the which, as ye say, 
I am bound. And therefore I shall desire you 
all to hold you contented with my simplicity, and 
also I command all my servants to go as humbly 
without any other sumptuous apparel than they 
be constantly used, and that is comely and decent 
to wear '^. For I do assure you, I do intend to 
come to York upon Sunday at night, and lodge 
there in the dean's house, and upon Monday to 
be stalled ; and there to make a dinner for you 
of the close, and for other worshipful gentlemen 
that shall chance to come to me at that time ; and 
the next day to dine with the mayor, and so 



7 Storer, in his Poetical Life of Wolsey, 1599, has availed himself 
of this declaration of the cardinal, in a passage justly celebrated for 
its eminent beauty. The image in the second stanza is worthy of 
a cotemporary of Shakspeare : 

I did not mean with predecessors pride. 
To walk on cloth as custom did require ; 

More fit that cloth were hung on either side 
In mourning wise, or make the poor attire ; 
More fit the dirige of a mournful quire 

In dull sad notes all sorrows to exceed. 

For him in whom the prince's love is dead. 

I am the tombe where that affection lies. 
That was the closet where it living kept ; 

Yet wise men say. Affection never dies ; — 
No, but it turns; and when it long hath slept. 
Looks heavy, like the eye that long hath wept. 

O could it die, that were a restfull state ; 

But Hving, it converts to deadly hate. 



CARDINAL WOLSEY. 337 

return home again toCawood that night, and thus 
to finish the same, whereby I may at all times 
resort to York Minster without other scrupu- 
losity or offence to any of you." 

This day could not be unknown to all the coun- 
try, but that some must needs have knowledge 
thereof, whereby that notice was given unto tlie 
gentlemen of the country, and they being thereof 
as well advertised as abbots, priors, and others, 
of the day of this solemnization, sent in such 
provision of dainty victuals that it is almost in- 
credible ; wherefore 1 omit to declare unto you 
the certainty thereof. As of great and fat beeves 
and muttons, wildfowl, and venison, both red 
and fallow, and divers other dainty meats, such 
as the time of the year did serve, sufficient to 
furnish a great and a sumptuous feast, all whicli 
things were unknown to my lord : forasmuch as 
he being prevented and disappointed of his rea- 
sonable purposed intent, because he was arrested, 
as ye shall hear hereafter; so that the most 
part of this provision was sent to York that same 
day that he was arrested, and the next day fol- 
lowing; for his arrest was kept as close and 
secret from the country as it could be, because 
they doubted the people, which had him in great 
love and estimation for his accustomed charity 
and liberality used daily among them, with fa- 
miliar gesture and ' countenance, which be the 



338 THE LIFE OF 

very means to allure the love and hearts of the 
people in the north parts. 

Or ever I wade any further in this matter, I 
do intend to declare unto you what chanced him 
before this his last trouble at Cawood, as a sign 
or token given by God what should follow of 
his end, or of trouble which did shortly ensue, 
the sequel whereof was of no man then present 
either premeditate or imagined. Therefore, for 
as much as it is a notable thing to be considered, 
I will (God willing) declare it as truly as it 
chanced according to my simple remembrance, 
at the which I myself was present. 

My lord's accustomed enemies in the court 
about the king had now my lord in more doubt 
than they had before his fall, considering the 
continual favour that the king bare him, thought 
that at length the king might call him home 
again ; and if he so did, they supposed, that he 
would rather imagine against them than to remit 
or forget their cruelty, which they most unjustly 
imagined against him. Wherefore they com- 
passed in their heads that they would either by 
some means dispatch him by some sinister accusa- 
tion of treason, or to bring him into the king's 
indignation by some other ways. This was their 
daily imagination and study, having as many 
spials, and as many eyes to attend upon his do- 
ings as the poets feigned Argus to have ; so that 



CARDINAL WOLSEY. 339 

he could neither work or do any thing, but that 
his enemies had knowledge thereof shortly after. 
Now at the last, they espied a time wherein they 
caught an occasion to bring their purpose to 
pass, thinking tliereby to have of him a great 
advantage ; for the matter being once disclosed 
unto the king, in such a vehemency as they pur- 
posed, they thought the king would be moved 
against him with great displeasure. And that 
by them executed and done, the king, upon their 
information, thought it good that he should 
come up to stand to his trial ; which they liked 
nothing at all ; notwithstanding he was sent for 
after this sort. First, they devised that he sliould 
come up upon arrest in ward, which they knew 
right well would so sore grieve him that he might 
be the weaker to come into the king's presence 
to make answer. Wherefore they sent Sir Wal- 
ter Walshe, knight, one of the gentlemen of the 
king's privy chamber, down into the country unto 
the Earl of Northumberland ^ (who was brought 



® Dr. Percy, in the notes to the Northumberland Household 
Book, has adduced a very curious extract from one of the letters 
of this Earl of Northumberland, which he thinks affords a " full 
vindication of the earl from the charge of ingratitude in being the 
person employed to arrest the cardinal." However this may be, 
the earl appears to have felt the embarrassment of his situation ; 
he trembled, and with a faltering voice could hardly utter the lui- 
gracious purport of his mission. To a mind of any delicacy the 
office must have been peculiarly distressing, and even supposing 

z '2 



340 THE LIFE OF 

up in my lord's house), and they twain being in 
commission jointly to arrest my lord of hault 
treason. This conclusion fully resolved, they 
caused Master Walshe to prepare himself to this 
journey with this commission, and certain in- 
structions annexed to the same ; who made him 
ready to ride, and took his horse at the court 
gate about one of the clock at noon, upon AU- 
hallown day, towards the north. Now am I 
come to the place where I will declare the thing 
that I promised you before of a certain token of 
my lord's trouble ; which was this. 

My lord sitting at dinner upon AUhallown 
day, in Cawood Castle, having^ at his board's 
end divers of his most worthiest chaplains, sit- 
ting at dinner to keep him company, for lack of 
strangers, ye shall understand, that my lord's 



the earl to have been formerly treated in an arbitrary and im- 
perious manner by the cardinal, it is one which he should have 
avoided. As the letter gives a very curious picture of the manners 
as well as the literature of our first nobility at that time, I shall 
place it in my appendix ; the very curious volume in which it is to 
be found being of great rarity and value. 

9 " In the houses of our ancient nobility they dined at long 
tables. The Lord and his principal guests sate at the upper end 
of the first table, in the Great Chamber, which was therefore called 
the Lord's Board-end. The officers of his household, and inferior 
guests, at long tables below in the hall. In the middle of each 
table stood a great salt cellar; and as particular care was taken 
to place the guests according to their rank, it became a mark of 
distinction, whether a person sate above or below the salt." — Notes 
on the JVorthumberland Household Boole, p. 419. 



CARDINAL WOLSEY. -341 

great cross of silver accustomably stood in the 
corner, at the table's end, leaning against the 
tappet or hanging of the chamber. And when 
the table's end was taken up, and a convenient 
time for them to arise ; in arising from the table, 
one Doctor Augustine, physician, being a Ve- 
netian born, having a boisterous gown of black 
velvet upon him, as he would have come out at 
the table's end, his gown overthrew the cross 
that stood there in the corner, and the cross trad- 
ing down along the tappet, it chanced to fall 
upon Doctor Bonner's head, who stood among 
others by the tappet, making of curtsy to my 
lord, and Avith one of the points of the cross 
razed his head a little, that the blood ran do\\m. 
The company standing there were greatly asto- 
nied with the chance. My lord sitting in his 
chair, looking upon them, jierceiving the chance, 
demanded of me being next him, what the mat- 
ter meant of their sudden abashment. I showed 
him how the cross fell upon Doctor Bonner's 
head. *' Hath it," quoth he, " drawn any blood ?" 
*' Yea forsooth, my lord," quoth I, *' as it seemeth 
me." With that he cast down his head, looking 
very soberly upon me a good while without any 
word speaking ; at the last, quoth he, (shaking 
of his head) " malum omen i ;" and therewith said 

1 The enemies of Archbishop Land, particularly in the time of 
his troubles, were Ibnd of comparing him with Cardinal Wolsry : 



342 THE LIFE OF 

grace, and rose from the table, and went into his 
bedchamber, there lamenting, making his pray- 
ers 2. Now mark the signification, how my lord 
expounded this matter unto me afterward at 
Pomfret Abbey. First, ye shall understand, that 
the cross, which belonged to the dignity of 
York, he understood to be himself; and Augus- 
tine, that overthrew the cross, he understood to 
be he that should accuse him, by means whereof 
he should be overthrown. The falling upon Mas- 
ter Bonner's head, who was master of my lord's 
faculties and spiritual jurisdictions, who was 
damnified by the overthrowing of the cross by 
the physician, and the drav/ing of blood betoken- 
ed death, which shortly after came to pass ; about 
the very same time of the day of this mischance. 
Master Walshe took his horse at the court gate, 
as nigh as it could be judged. And thus my 
lord took it for a very sign or token of that 



and a garbled edition of this life was first printed in the year 1641, 
for the purpose of prejudicing that great prelate in the minds of 
the people, by insinuating a parallel between him and the cardinal. 
It is not generally known that, beside the edition of this life then 
put forth, a small pamphlet was also printed with the following 
title, " A true Description or rather Parallel betweene Cardinall 
Wolsey, Archbishop of York, and William Laud, Archbishop of 
Canterbury, 1641." As it is brief, and of extreme rarity, I shall 
give it a place in the Appendix. 

"^ " But what he did there, I know not." The more recent MS. 
and Dr. Wordsworth's edition have this reading. 



CARDINAL VVOLSEY. 31-3 

which after ensued, if the circumstance be equally 
considered and noted, although no man was there 
present at that time that had any knowledge of 
Master Walshe's coming down, or what should 
follow. Wherefore, as it was supposed, that 
God showed him more secret knowledge of his 
latter days and end of his trouble tlian all men 
supposed ; which appeared right well by divers 
talks that he had with me at divers times of his 
last end. And now that I have declared unto 
you the effect of this prodigy and sign, I will 
return again to my matter. 

The time drawing nigh of his stallation ; sit- 
ting at dinner, upon the Friday next before 
Monday on the which he intended to be stalled 
at York, the Earl of Northumberland and Mas- 
ter Walshe, with a great company of gentlemen, 
as well of the earl's servants as of the country, 
which he had gathered together to accompany 
him in the king's name, not knowing to what 
purpose or what intent, came into the hall at 
Cawood, the officers sitting at dinner, and my 
lord not fully dined, but being at his fruits, 
nothing knowing of the earl's being in his hall. 
The first thing that the earl did, after he came 
into the castle, [he] commanded the porter to 
dehver him the keys of the gates, who would in 
no wise deliver him the keys, althougli he were 
very roughly commanded in the king's name, to 



344 



THE LIFE OF 



deliver them to one of the earl*s servants. Say- 
ing unto the earl, " Sir, ye do intend to deliver 
them to one of your servants to keep them and the 
gates, and to plant another in my room ; I know 
no cause why ye should so do, and this I assure 
you that you have no one servant, but that I am 
as able to keep them as he, to what purpose so- 
ever it be. And also, the keys were delivered 
me by my lord my master, with a charge both 
by oath, and by other precepts and command- 
ments. Therefore I beseech your lordship to 
pardon me, though I refuse your commandment. 
For whatsoever ye shall command me to do that 
belongeth to my office, I shall do it with a right 
good will as justly as any other of your servants." 
With that quoth the gentlemen there present 
unto the earl, hearing him speak so stoutly like a 
man, and with so good reason : " Su%" quoth 
they, " he is a good fellow, and speaketh like a 
faithful servant to his master ; and like an honest 
man: therefore give him your charge, and let 
him keep still the gates ; who, we doubt not, will 
be obedient to your lordship's commandment." 
" Well then," quoth the earl, " hold him a book," 
and commanded him to lay his hand upon the 
book, whereat the porter made some doubt, but 
being persuaded by the gentlemen there present, 
was contented, and laid his hand upon the book, 
to whom, quoth the earl, " Thou shalt swear, to 



CARDINAL WOLSEY. 345 

keep well and truly these gates to the king our 
sovereign lord*s use, and to do all such things 
as we shall command thee in the king's name, 
being his highness' commissioners, and as it shall 
seem to us at all times good, as long as we shall 
be here in this castle ; and that ye shall not let in 
nor out at these gates, but such as ye shall be 
commanded by us, from time to time," and upon 
this oath he received the keys at the earl's and 
Master Walshe's hands. 

Of all these doings knew my lord nothing ; 
for they stopped the stairs that went up to my 
lord's chamber where he sat, so that no man 
could pass up again that was come down. At 
the last one of my lord's servants chanced to 
look down into the hall at a loop that was upon 
the stairs, and returned to my lord, [and] showed 
him that my Lord of Northumberland was in the 
hall ; whereat my lord marveled, and would not 
believe him at the first ; but commanded a gen- 
tleman, being his gentleman usher, to go down 
and bring him perfect word. Who going down 
the stairs, looking down at the loop, where he 
saw the earl, who then returned to my lord, and 
showed him that it was very he. " Then," quotli 
my lord, " I am sorry that we have dined, for 1 
fear that our officers be not stored of any plenty 
of good fish, to make him such honourable cheer 
as to his estate is convenient, notwithstanding he 



346 



THE LIFE OF 



shall have such as we have, with a right good will 
and loving heart. Let the table be standing 
still, and we will go down and meet him, and 
bring him up ; and then he shall see how far forth 
we be at our dinner." With that he put the table 
from him, and rose up ; going down he encoun- 
tered the earl upon the midst of the stairs, com- 
ing up, with all his men about him. And as 
soon as my lord espied the earl, he put off his 
cap, and said to him, " My lord, ye be most 
heartily welcome ; (and therewith they embraced 
each other). Although, my lord," quoth he, " that 
I have often desired, and wished in my heart 
to see you in my house, yet if ye had loved me 
as I do you, ye would have sent me word before 
of your coming, to the intent that I might have 
received you according to your honour and mine. 
Notwithstanding ye shall have such cheer as I 
am able to make you, with a right good will ; 
trusting that ye will accept the same of me as of 
your very old and loving friend, hoping hereafter 
to see you oftener, when I shall be more able 
and better provided to receive you with better 
fare." And then my lord took the Earl of North- 
umberland by the hand, and led him up into 
the chamber ; whom followed all the earl's ser- 
vants; where the table stood in the state that 
my lord left it when he rose, saying unto the 
earl, *' Sir, now ye may perceive how far forth 



CARDINAL WOLSEY. 347 

we were at our dinner." Then my lord led the 
earl to the fire, saying, " My lord, ye shall go 
into liiy bedchamber, where is a good fire made 
for you, and there ye may shift your aj^parel 
until your chamber be made ready. Therefore let 
your male be brought up : and or ever I go, I 
pray you give me leave to take these gentlemen, 
your servants, by the hands." And w^hen he had 
taken them all by the hands, he returned to the 
earl, and said, " Ah, my lord, 1 perceive well that 
ye have observed my old precepts and instruc- 
tions which I gave you, when you were abiding 
with me in your youth, which was, to cherish 
your father's old servants, whereof I see here 
present with you a great number. Surely, my 
lord, ye do therein very well and nobly, and like 
a wise gentleman. For these be they that will 
not only serve and love you, but they will also 
live and die with you, and be true and faithful 
servants to you, and glad to see you prosper in 
honour ; the which I beseech God to send you, 
with long life." This said, he took the earl by 
the hand, and led him into his bedchamber. And 
they being there all alone, save only I, that kept 
the door, according to my duty, being gentleman 
usher ; these two lords standing at a window by 
the chimney, in my lord's bedchamber, the earl 
trembling said, with a very faint and soft voice, 
imto my lord, (laying his hand upon his arm) 



348 THE LIFE OF 

*' My lord, I arrest you of high treason." With 
which words my lord was marvellously astonied, 
standing both still a long space without any fur- 
ther words. But at the last, quoth my lord, 
*' What moveth you, or by what authority do you 
this ?" *' Forsooth, my lord," quoth the earl, *' I 
have a commission to warrant me and my doing." 
" Where is your commission ?" quoth my lord ; 
" let me see it." " Nay, sir, that you may not," 
quoth the earl. " Well then," quoth my lord, 
*' I will not obey your arrest : for there hath been 
between some of your predecessors and mine 
great contentions and debate grown upon an 
ancient grudge, which may succeed in you, with 
like inconvenience, as it hath done heretofore. 
Therefore, unless I see your authority and com- 
mission, I will not obey you." Even as they 
were debating this matter between them in the 
chamber, so busy was Master Walshe in arrest- 
ing of Doctor Augustine, the physician, at the 
door, within the portal, whom I heard say unto 
him, *' Go in then, traitor, or I shall make thee." 
And with that, I opened the portal door, and 
the same being opened. Master Walshe thrust 
Doctor Augustine in before him with violence. 
These matters on both the sides astonished me 
very sore, musing what all this should mean ; until 
at the last, Master Walshe, being entered the 
chamber, began to pluck off his hood, the which 



CARDINAL WOLSEV. 31-9 

he had made him with a coat of the same cloth, 
of cotton, to the intent he woidd not be known. 
And after he had plucked it off, he kneeled down 
to my lord, to whom my lord spake first, com- 
manding him to stand up, saying thus, " Sir, 
here my Lord of Northumberland hath arrested 
me of treason, but by what authority or com- 
mission he showeth me not ; but saith, he hath 
one. If ye be privy thereto, or be joined with 
him therein, I pray you show me." " Indeed, my 
lord," quoth Master Walshe, " if it please your 
grace, it is true that he hath one." " Well then," 
said my lord, " I pray you let me see it." " Sir, 
I beseech your grace hold us excused," quoth 
Master Walshe, " there is annexed unto our 
commission a schedule with certain instructions 
which ye may in no wise be privy unto." *' Why," 
quoth my lord, " be your instructions such that 
I may not see them ? Peradventure, if I might 
be privy to them, I could the better help you to 
perform them. It is not unknown unto you both 
I am assured, but I have been privy and of coun- 
sel in as weighty matters as this is, for I doubt 
not for my part, but I shall prove and clear my- 
self to be a true man, against the expectation 
of all my cruel enemies. I have an understand- 
ing whereupon all this matter growetli. Well, 
there is no more to do. I trow, gentleman, ye 
be one of the king's privy chamber ; your name. 



350 THE LIFE OF 

I suppose, is Walslie ; I am content to yield unto 
you, but not to my Lord of Northumberland, 
without I see his commission. And also you are 
a sufficient commissioner yourself in that behalf, 
inasmuch as ye be one of the king's privy cham- 
ber ; for the worst person there is a sufficient war- 
rant to arrest the greatest peer of this realm, by 
the king's only commandment, without any com- 
mission. Therefore I am ready to be ordered 
and disposed at your will, put therefore the 
king's commission and your authority in execu- 
tion, a God's name, and spare not, and I will 
obey the king's will and pleasure. For I fear 
more the cruelty of my unnatural enemies, than I 
do my truth and allegiance ; wherein, I take God 
to witness, I never offended the king's majesty 
in word or deed ; and therein I dare stand face 
to face with any man alive, having in differ en cy, 
without partiality." 

Then came my Lord of Northumberland unto 
me, standing at the portal door, and commanded 
me to avoid the chamber: and being loath to 
depart from my master, [I] stood still, and would 
not remove ; to whom he spake again, and said, 
" There is no remedy, ye must needs depart." 
With that I looked upon my lord, (as who say- 
eth, shall I go?) upon whom my lord looked 
very heavily, and shook at me his head. Per- 
ceiving by his countenance it booted me not to 



CARDINAL WOLSEY. 351 

abide, and so I departed the chamber, and went 
into the next chamber, where abode many gen- 
tlemen of my fellows, and other, to learn of me 
some news of the matter within ; to whom I made 
report what I saw and heard ; which was to them 
great heaviness to hear. 

Then the earl called divers gentlemen into the 
chamber, which were for the most part his own 
servants ; and after the earl and Master Walshe 
had taken the keys of all my lord's coffers from 
him, they gave the charge and custody of my lord's 
person unto these gentlemen. [And then] they 
departed, and went about the house to set all 
things in order that night against the next morn- 
ing, intending then to depart from thence (being 
Saturday) with my lord ; the which they deferred 
until Sunday, because all things could not be 
brought to pass as they would have it. They 
went busily about to convey Doctor Augustine 
away to London-ward, with as much speed as 
they could, sending with him divers honest per- 
sons to conduct him, who was tied under the 
horse's belly. And this done, when it was night, 
the commissioners assigned two grooms of my 
lord's to attend upon him in his chamber that 
night where they lay ; and the most part of the 
rest of the earl's gentlemen and servants watched 
in the next chamber and about tlie house con- 
tinually until the morrow, and the porter kept 



352 THE LIFE OF 

the gates, so that no man could go in or out 
until the next morning. At which time my lord 
rose up, supposing that he should have departed 
that day, howbeit he was kept close secretly in 
his chamber, expecting continually his departure 
from thence. Then the earl sent for me into his 
own chamber, and being there he commanded 
me to go in to my lord, and there to give at- 
tendance upon him, and charged me upon an 
oath that I should observe certain articles. And 
going away from him, toward my lord, I met 
with Mr. Walshe in the court, who called me 
unto him, and led me into his chamber, and there 
showed me that the king's highness bare towards 
me his princely favour, for my diligent and true 
service that I daily ministered towards my lord 
and master. " Wherefore," quoth he, " the king's 
pleasure is, that ye shall be about your master 
as most chiefest person, in whom his highness 
putteth great confidence and assured trust ; . 
whose pleasure is therefore, that ye shall be 
sworn unto his majesty to observe certain arti- 
cles, in writing, the which I will deliver you." 
" Sir," quoth I, " my Lord of Northumberland 
hath already sworn me to divers articles." *' Yea," 
quoth he, " but my lord could not deliver you the 
articles in writing, as I am commanded specially 
to do. Therefore, I deliver you this bill with 
these articles, the which ye shall be sworn to 



CAUDINAL WOLSEY. 353 

fulfil." " Sir," then quoth I, " 1 pray you to give 
me leave to peruse them, or ev^er I be sworn, to 
see if I be able to perform them." " With a right 
good will," quoth he. And when I had perused 
them, and understood that they were but reason- 
able and tolerable, I answered, that I was con- 
tented to obey the king's pleasure, and to be 
sworn to the performance of them. And so he 
gave me a new oath : and then I resorted to my 
lord, where he was in his chamber sitting in a 
chair, the tables being covered for him ready to 
go to dinner. But as soon as he perceived me 
coming in, he fell into such a woful lamentation, 
with such rueful terms and watery eyes, that it 
would have caused the flintiest heart to have re- 
lented and burst for sorrow. And as I and other 
could, [we] comforted him ; but it would not be. 
" For," quoth he, " now that I see this gentleman 
(meaning me) how faithful, how diligent, and how 
painful since the beginning of my trouble he hath 
served me, abandoning his own country, his wife, 
and children ; his house and family, his rest and 
quietness, only to serve me, and remembering 
with myself that I have nothing to reward him 
for his honest merits grieveth me not a little. 
And also the sight of him putteth me in remem- 
brance of the number of my faithful servants, 
that I have here remaining with me in this house ; 
whom I did intend to have preferred and ad- 



354 THE LIFE OF 

vanced, to the best of my power, from time to 
time, as occasion should serve. But now, alas ! 
I am prevented, and have nothing left me here 
to reward them ; for all is deprived me, and I 
am left here their desolate and miserable master, 
bare and wretched, without help or succour, but 
of God alone, Howbeit," quoth he to me (call- 
ing me by my name), " I am a true man, and 
therefore ye shall never receive shame of me for 
your service." I, perceiving his heaviness and la- 
mentable words, said thus unto him : " My lord, 
I nothing mistrust your truth : and for the same 
I dare and will be sworn before the king's person 
and his honourable council. Wlierefore, (kneel- 
ing upon my knees before him, I said,) my lord, 
comfort yourself, and be of good cheer. The 
malice of your uncharitable enemies, nor their 
untruth, shall never prevail against your truth and 
faithfulness, for I doubt not but coming to your 
answer, my hope is such, that ye shall so acquit 
and clear yourself of all their surmised andfeigned 
accusations, that it shall be to the king's con- 
tentation, and much to your advancement and 
restitution of your former dignity and estate." 
*' Yea," quoth he, " if I may come to mine answer, 
I fear no man alive ; for he liveth not upon the 
earth that shall look upon this face (pointing to 
his own face), shall be able to accuse me of any 
untruth ; and that knoweth mine enemies full 



CARDINAL WOLSEY. 3,XJ 

well, which will be an occasion that I shall not 
have indifferent justice, but they will rather seek 
some other sinister ways to destroy me." " Sir," 
quoth I, " ye need not therein doubt, the king 
being so much your good lord, as he hath always 
showed himself to be, in all your troubles." With 
that came up my lord's meat ; and so we left our 
communication, I gave him water, and sat him 
down to dinner ; with whom sat divers of the 
earl's gentlemen, notwithstanding my lord did eat 
very little meat, but would many times burst out 
suddenly in tears, with the most sorrowfullest 
words that hath been heard of any woful creature. 
And at the last he fetched a great sigh from the 
bottom of his heart, saying these words of scrip- 
ture 3, " O constantia Martirum laudabilis ! O 
charitas inextinguihilis ! O paclentia invincihilis, 
qucB licet inter jiressuras persequentiu7n visa sit 
despicahilis, invenietur in laudem etghriam ac ho- 
norem in tempore tiihulationis" And thus passed 
he forth his dinner in great lamentation and 
heaviness, who was more fed and moistened with 



'' The words which follow, I apprehend, are part of some eccle- 
siastical hymn. It was not unusual to attribute the name oi Scrip- 
ture to all such compositions ; and to whatever was read in churches. 
" Also I said and affirmed" (the words are part of the recantation 
of a Wickliffite) , " that I held no Scripture catholike nor holy, but 
onely that is contained in the Bible. For the legends and lives of 
saints I held hem nought ; and the miracles written of hem, I held 
untrue." Fox's Acts, p. 591. W. 

A A 2 



>6 



THE LIFE OF 



sorrow and tears than with either pleasant meats 
or dehcate drinks. I suppose there was not a 
dry eye among all the gentlemen sitting at the 
table with him. And when the table was taken 
up, it was showed my lord, that he could not 
remove that night, (who expected none other all 
that day), quoth he, '' Even when it shall seem 
my lord of Northumberland good." 

The next day, being Sunday, my lord pre- 
pared himself to ride when he should be com- 
manded ; and after dinner, by that time that the 
earl had appointed all things in good order within 
the castle, it drew fast to night. There was as- 
signed to attend upon him five of us, his own 
servants, and no more ; that is to say I, one 
chaplain, his barber, and two grooms of his 
chamber, and when he should go down the stairs 
out of the great chamber, my lord demanded for 
the rest of his servants ; the earl answered, that 
they were not far ; the which he had inclosed 
within the chapel, because they should not dis- 
quiet his departure. *' Sir, I pray you," quoth 
my lord, " let me see them or ever I depart, or 
else I will never go out of this house." " Alack, 
my lord," quoth the earl, " they should trouble 
you ; therefore I beseech you to content your- 
self." " Well," quoth my lord, " then will I not 
depart out of this house, but I will see them, 
and take my leave of them in this chamber." And 



CAKDINAL WOLSEY. 357 

his servants being inclosed in the chapel, having 
understanding of my lord's departing away, and 
that they should not see him before his departure, 
began to grudge, and to make such a rueful 
noise, that the commissioners doubted some tu- 
mult or inconvenience to arise by reason thereof, 
thought it good to let them pass out to my lord, 
and that done they came to him into the great 
chamber where he was, and there they kneeled 
down before him ; among whom was not one dry 
eye, but pitifully lamented their master's fall and 
trouble. To whom my lord gave comfortable 
words and worthy praises for their diligent faith- 
fulness and honest truth towards him, assuring 
them, that what chance soever should happen 
unto him, that he was a true man and a just to 
his sovereign lord. And thus with a lamentable 
manner, shaking each of them by the hands, was 
fain to depart, the night drew so fast upon them. 
My lord's mule and our horses were ready 
brought into the inner court ; where we mounted, 
and coming to the gate which was shut, the 
porter opened the same to let us pass, where 
was ready attending a great number of gentle- 
men with their servants, such as the earl as- 
signed to conduct and attend upon his person 
that night to Pomfret, and so forth, as ye shall 
hear hereafter. But to tell you of the number 
of people of tiie country that were assembled 



358 THE LIFE OF 

at the gates which lamented his departing was 
wondrous, which was about the number of three 
thousand persons ; who at the opening of the 
gates, after they had a sight of his person, cried 
all with a loud voice, " God save your grace, 
God save your grace ! The foul evil take all them 
that hath thus taken you from us ! we pray God 
that a very vengeance may light upon them!" 
Thus they ran crying after him through the town 
of Cawood, they loved him so well. For surely 
they had a great loss of him, both the poor and 
the rich : for the poor had of him great relief; 
and the rich lacked his counsel in any business 
that they had to do, which caused him to have 
such love among them in the country. 

Then rode he with his conductors towards 
Pomfret ; and by the way as he rode, he asked 
me if I had any familiar acquaintance among the 
gentlemen that rode with him. " Yea, sir," said 
I, " what is your pleasure ?" " Marry," quoth he, 
" I have left a thing behind me which I would 
fain have." " Sir," said I, " if I knew what it 
were, I would send lor it out of hand." " Then," 
said he, " let the messenger go to my Lord of 
Northumberland, and desire him to send me the 
red buckram bag, lying in my almonry in my 
chamber, sealed with my seal." With that I 
departed from him, and went straight unto one 
Sir Roger Lassels, knight, who was then steward 



CARDINAL WOLSEY. 359 

to the Earl of Northumberland (being among the 
rout of horsemen as one of the chiefest rulers), 
whom I desired to send some of his servants 
back unto the earl his master for that purpose ; 
[who] gi'anted most gently my request, and sent 
incontinent one of his servants unto my lord to 
Cawood for the said bag ; who did so honestly 
his message, that he brought the same to my 
lord immediately after he was in his chamber 
within the abbey of Pomfret ; where he lay all 
night. In which bag was no other thing en- 
closed but three shirts of hair, which he deli- 
vered to the chaplain, his ghostly father, very 
secretly. 

Furthermore, as we rode toward Pomfret, my 
lord demanded of me, whither they would lead 
him that night. " Forsooth, sir," quoth I, " but 
to Pomfret." " Alas," quoth he, " shall I go to 
the castle, and lie there, and die like a beast ?" 
*' Sir, I can tell you no more what they do 
intend; but I will enquire here among these 
gentlemen of a special friend of mine who is 
chief of all their counsel." 

With that I repaired unto tlie said Sir Roger 
Lassels, knight, desiring him most earnestly that 
he would vouchsafe to show me, whither my lord 
should go to be lodged that night ; who answered 
me again that my lord should be lodged within 
the abbey of Pomfret, and in none other place ; 



360 THE LIFE OF 

and so I reported to my lord, who was glad 
thereof; so that within night we came to Pom- 
fret Abbey, and there lodged. 

And the earl remained still all that night in 
Cawood Castle, to see the despatch of the 
household, and to establish all the stuff in some 
surety within the same. 

The next day they removed with my lord to- 
wards Doncaster, desiring that he might come 
thither hy night, because the people followed him 
weeping and lamenting, and so they did never- 
theless although he came in by torchlight, cry- 
ing, *' God save your grace, God save your grace> 
my good lord cardinal," running before him with 
candles in their hands, who caused me therefore 
to ride hard by his mule to shadow him from the 
people, and yet they perceived him, cursing his 
enemies. And thus they brought him to the 
Blackfriars, within the which they lodged him 
that night. 

And the next day we removed to Sheffield Park, 
where the Earl of Shrewsbury lay within the lodge, 
and all the way thitherward the people cried and 
lamented as they did in all places as we rode 
before. And when we came into the park of 
Sheffield, nigh to the lodge, my Lord of Shrews- 
bury, with my lady his wife, a train of gentle- 
women, and all my lord's gentlemen and yeomen 
standing without the gates of the lodge to attend 



CARDINAL WOLSEY. 36l 

my lord's coming, to receive him with much 
lionoiir ; whom the earl embraced, saying these 
words, " My lord," quoth he, *' your grace is most 
heartily welcome unto me, and [I am] glad to 
see you in my poor lodge, the which I have often 
desired; and [should have been] much more 
gladder, if you had come after another sort." 
*' Ah, my gentle lord of Shrewsbury," quoth my 
lord, " I heartily thank you : and although I have 
no cause -to rejoice, yet, as a sorrowful heart 
may joy, I rejoice, my chance w^hich is so good 
to come unto the hands and custody of so noble 
a person, whose approved honour and wisdom 
hath been always right well known to all noble 
estates. And, sir, howsoever my ungentle ac- 
cusers have used their accusations against me, 
yet I assure you, and so before your lordship, 
and all the world, I do protest, that my de- 
meanour and proceedings hath been just and 
loyal towards my sovereign and liege lord; of 
whose behaviour and doings your lordship hath 
had good experience ; and even according to 
my truth and faithfulness so I beseech God to 
help me in this my calamity." " I doubt nothing 
of your truth," quoth the earl, " therefore, my 
lord, I beseech you, be of good cheer, and fear 
not ; for I have received letters from the king of 
liis own hand in your favour and entertaining, 
the which you shall sec. Sir, I am nothing sorry. 



362 THE LIFE OF 

but that I have not wherewith worthily to re- 
ceive you, and to entertain you, according to 
your honour and my good will ; but such as I 
have, ye are most heartily welcome thereto, de- 
siring you to accept my good will accordingly, 
for I will not receive you as a prisoner, but as 
my good lord, and the king's true faithful sub- 
ject ; and here is my wife come to salute you." 
Whom my lord kissed bareheaded, and all her 
gentlewomen ; and took my lord's servants by the 
hands, as well gentlemen and yeomen as other. 
Then these two lords went arm and arm into the 
lodge, conducting my lord into a fair chamber at 
the end of a goodly gallery, within a new tower 
where my lord was lodged. There was also in 
the midst of the same gallery a traverse of sarse- 
net drawn ; so that the one part was preserved 
for my lord, and the other part for the earl. 

Then departed all the great number of gentle- 
men and other that conducted my lord to the 
earl of Shrewsbury's. And my lord being there, 
continued there eighteen days after ; upon whom 
the earl appointed divers gentlemen of his ser- 
vants to serve my lord, forasmuch as he had a 
small number of servants there to serve ; and 
also to see that he lacked nothing that he would 
desire, being served in his own chamber at din- 
ner and supper, as honourably, and with as 
many dainty dishes, as he had most commonly 



CARDINAL WOLSEY. 363 

in his own house being at liberty. And once 
every day the earl would resort unto him, and 
sit with him communing upon a bench in a great 
window in the gallery. And though the earl 
would right heartily comfort him, yet would he 
lament so piteously, that it would make the earl 
very sorry and heavy for his grief. " Sir," said 
he, " I have, and daily do receive letters from the 
king, commanding me to entertain you as one 
that he loveth, and highly favoureth ; whereby I 
perceive ye do lament without any great cause 
much more than ye need to do. And though ye 
be accused (as I think in good faith unjustly), 
yet the king can do no less but put you to your 
trial, the which is more for the satisfying of some 
persons, than for any mistrust that he hath in 
your doings." " Alas !" quoth my lord to the 
earl, " is it not a piteous case, that any man 
should so wrongfully accuse me unto the king's 
person, and not to come to mine answer before 
his majesty ? For I am well assured, my lord, 
that there is no man alive or dead that looketh 
in this face of mine, [who] is able to accuse me 
of any disloyalty toward the king. Oh ! how 
much it grieveth me that the king should have 
any suspicious opinion in me, to think that I 
would be false or conspire any evil to his royal 
person ; who may well consider, that I have no 
assured friend in all the world in whom 1 put my 



364 THE LIFE OF 

trust but only in his grace ; for if I should go 
about to betray my sovereign lord and prince, 
in whom is all my trust and confidence before 
all other persons, all men mightjustly think and 
report, that I lacked not only grace, but also 
both wit and discretion. Nay, nay, my lord, I 
would rather adventure to shed my heart's blood 
in his defence, as I am bound to do, by mine 
allegiance and also for the safeguard of myself, 
than to imagine his destruction ; for he is my 
staff that supporteth me, and the wall that de- 
fendeth me against my malignant enemies, and 
all other : who knoweth best my truth before all 
men, and hath had thereof best and longest ex- 
perience. Therefore to conclude, it is not to be 
thought that ever I would go about or intend ma- 
liciously or traitorously to travel or wish any pre- 
judice or damage to his royal person or imperial 
dignity ; but, as I said, defend it with the shed- 
ding of my heart blood, and procure all men so 
to do, and it were but only for the defence of 
mine own person and simple estate, the which 
mine enemies think I do so much esteem; having 
none other refuge to flee to for defence or suc- 
cour, in all adversity, but under the shadow of 
his majesty's wing. Alas! my lord, I was in a 
good estate now, and in case of a quiet living 
right well content therewith : but the enemy that 
never sleepeth, but studieth and continually ima- 



CARDINAL WOLSEY. 365 

ginetli, botli sleeping and waking, my utter de- 
struction, perceiving the contentation of my 
mind, doubted that their maHcious and cruel 
dealings would at length grow to their shame 
and rebuke, goeth about therefore to prevent 
the same with shedding of my blood. But from 
God, that knoweth the secrets of their hearts 
and of all others, it cannot be hid, ne yet unre- 
warded, when he shall see opportunity. For, 
my good lord, if you will show yourself so much 
my good friend as to require the king's majesty, 
by your letters, that my accusers may come be- 
fore my face in his presence, and there that I 
may make answer, I doubt not but ye shall see me 
acquit myself of all their malicious accusations, 
and utterly confound them ; for they shall never 
be able to prove, by any due probations, that 
ever I offended the king in will, thought, and 
deed. Therefore I desire you and most heartily 
require your good lordship, to be a mean for me, 
that I may answer unto my accusers before the 
king's majesty. The case is his ; and if their 
accusations should be true, then should it touch 
no man but him most earnestly ; wherefore it 
were most convenient that he should hear it him- 
self in proper person. But I fear me, that they 
do intend rather to dispatch me than I should 
come before him in his presence ; for they be 



366 THE LIFE OF 

well assured, and very certain, that my truth 
should vanquish all their untruth and surmised 
accusations ; which is the special cause that 
moveth me so earnestly to desire to make mine 
answer before the king's majesty. The loss of 
goods, the slander of my name, ne yet all my 
trouble, grieveth me nothing so much as the loss 
of the king's favour, and that he should have 
in me such an opinion, without desert, of un- 
truth, that have with such travail and pains 
served his highness so justly, so painfully, and 
with so faithful a heart, to his profit and honour 
at all times. And also again, the truth of my 
doings against their unjust accusations proved 
most just and loyal should be much to my ho- 
nesty, and do me more good than to attain great 
treasure ; as I doubt not but it will, if [the case] 
might be indifferently heard. Now, my good 
lord, weigh ye my reasonable request, and let 
charity and truth move your noble heart with 
pity, to help me in all this my truth, wherein ye 
shall take no manner of slander or rebuke, by 
the grace of God." " Well then," quoth my Lord 
of Shrewsbury, " I will write to the king's ma- 
jesty in your behalf, declaring to him by my let- 
ters how grievously ye lament his displeasure 
and indignation ; and what request ye make for 
the trial of your truth towards his highness." 



CARDINAL WOLSEY. 367 

Thus after these communications, and divers 
others, as between them daily was accustomed, 
they departed asunder. 

Where my lord continued the space after of 
a fortnight, having goodly and honourable enter- 
tainment, whom the earl would often require to 
kill a doe or two there in the park, who always 
refused all manner of earthly pleasures and dis- 
ports either in hunting or in other games, but 
applied his prayers continually very devoutly ; 
so that it came to pass at [a] certain season sit- 
ting at dinner in his own chamber, having at his 
board's end that same day, as he divers times had 
to accompany him, a mess of the earl's gentlemen 
and chaplains, and eating of roasted wardens at 
the end of his dinner, before whom I stood at the 
table, dressing of those wardens for him : behold- 
ing of him [I] perceived his colour often to 
change, and alter divers times, whereby I judged 
him not to be in health. Which caused me to 
lean over the table, saying unto him softly, " Sir, 
me seemeth your grace is not well at ease." He 
answered again and said, *' Forsooth, no more I 
am ; for I am," quoth he, " suddenly taken about 
my stomach, with a thing that lieth overthwart 
my breast as cold as a whetstone ; the which is 
but wind ; therefore I pray you take up the cloth, 
and make ye a short dinner, and resort shortly 
again unto me." And after that the table was 
taken up, I went and sat the waiters to dinner, 



368 THE LIFE OF 

without in the gallery, and resorted again to 
my lord, where I found him still sitting where 
I left him very ill at ease ; notwithstanding he 
was in communication with the gentlemen sitting 
at the board's end. And as soon as I was en- 
tered the chamber, he desired me to go down to 
the apothecary, and to inquire of him whether 
he had any thing that would break wind upward, 
and according to his commandment I went my 
way towards the apothecary. And by the way 
I remembered one article of mine oath before 
made unto Master Walshe, which caused me 
iirst to go to the earl, and showed him both 
what estate he was in, and also what he desired 
at the apothecary's hand for his rehef. With 
that the earl caused the apothecary to be called 
incontinent before him ; of whom he demanded 
whether he had any thing to break wind that 
troubleth one in his breast; and he answered 
that he had such gear. " Then," quoth the earl, 
" fetch me some hither." The which the apo- 
thecary brought in a white paper, a certain white 
confection unto the earl, who commanded me to 
give the assay thereof to the apothecary, and so 
I did before him. And then I departed there- 
with bringing it to my lord, before whom I took 
also the assay thereof, and delivered the same 
to my lord, who received the same wholly alto- 
gether at once. And immediately after he had 
received the same, surely he avoided exceeding 



CARDINAL WOLSEV. 369 

mucli wind upward. ** Lo," quoth lie, " now you 
may see that it was but wind ; but by the means 
of this receipt I am, I thank God, well eased :" 
and so he rose from the table, and went to his 
prayers, as he accustomedly did after dinner. 
And being at his prayers, there came upon him 
such a laske, that it caused him to go to his 
stool ; and being there the earl sent for me, and 
at my coming he said, " Forasmuch as I have 
always perceived you to be a man, in w^hom my 
, lord your master hath great affiance ; and for my 
experience, knowing you to be an honest man" 
(with many more words of commendation than 
need here to be rehearsed), said, " It is so, that 
my lord, your lamentable master, hath often de- 
sired me to write to the king's majesty that he 
might come unto his presence, to make answer 
to his accusations ; and even so have I done ; for 
this day have I received letters from his grace, 
by Sir William Kingston, knight, whereby I do 
perceive that the king hath in him a very good 
opinion ; and upon my often request, he hath 
sent for him, by the said Sir William, to come 
up to answer, according to his own desire ; who 
is in his chaml^er. Wherefore now is the time 
come that my lord hath often desired to try him- 
self and his truth, as I trust much to his honour ; 
and I put no doubt in so doing, that it shall be 
for him the best journey that ever he made in all 

B B 



370 THE LIFE OF 

his life. Therefore now would I have you to 
play the part of a wise maiij to break first this 
matter unto him so wittily, and in such sort, 
that he might take it quietly in good part : for he 
is ever so full of sorrow and dolor in my com- 
pany, that I fear me he will take it in evil part, 
and then he doth not well : for I assure you, and 
so show him that the king is his good lord, and 
hath given me the most worthy thanks for his 
entertainment, desiring and commanding me 
so to continue, not doubting but that he will 
right nobly acquit himself towards his highness. 
Therefore, go your ways to him, and so per- 
suade with him that I may find him in good quiet 
at my coming, for I will not tarry long after 
you." " Sir," quoth I, " I shall, if it please your 
lordship, endeavour me to accomplish your com- 
mandment to the best of my power. But, sir, 
I doubt one thing, that when I shall name Sir 
William Kingston, he will mistrust that all is 
not well ; because he is constable of the tower, 
and captain of the guard, having twenty-four of 
the guard to attend upon him." " Marry it is 
truth ;" quoth the earl, " what thereof, though 
he be constable of the tower ? yet he is the 
most meetest man for his wisdom and discretion 
to be sent about any such message. And for 
the guard, it is for none other purpose but only 
to defend him against all them that would in- 



CARDINAL W'OLSKY. 371 

tend him any evil, either in word or deed ; and 
also they be all, or for the most part, such of 
his old servants as the king took of late into 
his service, to the intent that they should at- 
tend upon him most justly, and doth know best 
how to serve him." " Well, sir," said I, " I 
will do what I can," and so departed toward my 
lord. 

And at my repair I found him sitting at the 
upper end of the gallery, upon a trussing chest 
of his own, with his beads and staff in his hands. 
And espying me coming from the earl, he de- 
manded of me what news. " Forsooth, sir," 
quoth I, " the best news that ever came to you ; 
if your grace can take it well." " I pray God it 
be," quoth he, *' what is it?" *' Forsooth, sir," 
quoth I, " my Lord of Shrewsbury, perceiving 
by your often communication that ye were al- 
ways desirous to come before the king's majesty, 
and now as your most assured friend, hath tra- 
vailed so with his letters unto the king, that the 
king hath sent for you by Master Kingston and 
twenty-four of the guard, to conduct you to his 
highness." " Master Kingston," quoth he, re- 
hearsing his name 4 once or twice ; and with that 



* " J know not whether or no it be worth the mentioning here 
(however we will put it on the adventure), but Cardinal AVolsoy, 
in his life time was informed by some fortune-tellers, tJiaf he should 
haue his end nt Kingston. This, his credulity interpreted of King- 

B B 2 



372 THE LIFE OF 

clapped his hand on his thigh, and gave a great 
sigh. " Sir," quoth I, " if your grace could or 
would take all things in good part, it should be 
much better for you. Content yourself for God's 
sake, and think that God and your friends hath 
wrought for you, according to your own desire. 
Did ye not always wish that ye might clear your- 
self before the king's person, now that God and 
your friends hath brought your desire to pass, 
ye will not take it thankfully ? If ye consider 
your truth and loyalty unto our sovereign lord, 
against the which your enemies cannot prevail, 
the king being your good lord as he is, you 
know well, that the king can do no less than he 
doth, you being to his highness accused of some 
heinous crime, but cause you to be brought to 
your trial, and there to receive according to your 
demerits ; the which his highness trusteth, and 
saith no less but that you shall prove yourself a 
just man to his majesty, wherein ye have more 
cause to rejoice than thus to lament, or mistrust 
his favourable justice. For I assure you, your 



ston on Thames; which made him alwayes to avoid the riding 
through that town, though the nearest way from his house to the 
court. Afterwardsj understanding that he was to he committed by 
the king's express order to the charge of Sir Anthony [WilUam] 
Kingston (see Henry Lord Howard in his Book against Prophecies, 
chap. 28, fol. 130), it struck to his heart; too late perceiving him- 
self deceived by that father of lies in his homonymous prediction." 
Fuller's Chvrch History. Book v. p. 178. W. 



CARDINAL WOLSEY. 373 

enemies be more in doubt and fear of you, than 
you of them ; that they wish that thing, that I 
trust they shall never be able to bring to pass 
with all their wits, the king (as I said before) 
being your indifferent and singular good lord and 
friend. And to prove that he so is, see you not 
how he hath sent gentle Master Kingston for 
you, with such men as were your old true ser- 
vants, and yet be as far as it becometh them to 
be only to attend upon you, for the want of your 
own servants, willing also Master Kingston to 
remove you with as much honour as was due to 
you in your high estate ; and to convey you by 
such easy journeys as ye shall command him to 
do ; and that ye shall have all your desires and 
commandments by the way in every place, to 
your grace's contentation and honour. Where- 
fore, sir, I humbly beseech your grace, to im- 
print all these just persuasions with many other 
imminent occasions in your discretion, and be of 
good cheer ; I most humbly with my faithful 
heart require your grace, wherewith ye shall 
principally comfort yourself, and next give all 
your friends and to me and other of your servants 
good hope of your good speed." *' Well, well, 
then," quoth he, " I perceive more than ye can 
imagine, or do know. Experience of old hath 
taught me." And therewith he rose up, and 
went into his chamber, to his close stool, the flux 



374 THE LIFE OF 

troubled him so sore ; and when he had done he 

came out again ; and immediately my Lord of 

Shrewsbury came into the gallery unto him, with 

whom my lord met, and then they both sitting 

down upon a bench in a great window, the earl 

asked him how he did, and he most lamentably, 

as he was accustomed, answered, thanking him 

for his gentle entertainment. " Sir," quoth the 

earl, " if ye remember ye have often wished in 

my company to make answer before the king ; 

and I as desirous to help your request, as you to 

wish, bearing towards you my good will, have 

written especially to the king in your behalf; 

making him also privy of your lamentable sorrow, 

that ye inwardly receive for his high displeasure ; 

who accepteth all things and your doings therein, 

as friends be accustomed to do in such cases. 

Wherefore I would advise you to pluck up your 

heart, and be not aghast of your enemies, who I 

assure you have you in more doubt than ye 

would think, perceiving that the king is fully 

minded to have the hearing of your case before 

his own person. Now, sir, if you can be of good 

cheer, I doubt not but this journey which ye 

shall take towards his highness shall be much to 

your advancement, and an overthrow of your 

enemies. The king hath sent for you by that 

worshipful knight Master Kingston, and with 

him twenty-four of your old servants, who be 



CARDINAL VVOLSEY. Sjd 

now of the guard, to defend you against yoiu' 
unknown enemies, to the intent that ye may 
safely come unto his majesty." " Sir," quoth 
my lord, " as I suppose Master Kingston is con- 
stable of the tower." " Yea, what of that?" 
quoth the earl, " I assure you he is only ap- 
pointed by the king for one of your friends, and 
for a discreet gentleman, as most worthy to take 
upon him the safe conduct of your person ; for 
without fail the king favoureth you much more, 
and beareth towards you a secret special favour, 
far otherwise than ye do take it." " Well, sir," 
quoth my lord, " as God will, so be it. I am 
subject to fortune, and to fortune I submit my- 
self, being a true man ready to accept such or- 
dinances as God hath provided for me, and there 
an end : sir, I pray you, where is Master King- 
ston?" " Marry," quoth the earl, " if ye will, 
I will send for him, who would most gladly see 
you." " I pray you then," quoth my lord, " send 
for him." At whose message he came inconti- 
nent, and as soon as my lord espied him coming 
in to the gallery, he made haste to encounter 
him. Master Kingston came towards him with 
much reverence ; and at his approach he kneeled 
down and saluted him ^ on the king's behalf; 
whom my lord bareheaded offered to take up, 
but he still kneeled. *' Then," quoth my lord, 
" Master Kingston, I pray you stand up, and 



376 THE LIFE OF 

leave your kneeling unto a very wretch replete 
with misery, not worthy to be esteemed, but for 
a vile abject utterly cast away, without desert; 
and therefore, good Master Kingston, stand up, 
or I will myself kneel down by you." With that 
Master Kingston stood up, saying, with humble 
reverence, " Sir, the king's majesty hath him 
commended unto you." " I thank his highness," 
quoth my lord, " I trust he be in health, and 
merry, the which I beseech God long continue." 
*' Yea, without doubt," quoth Master Kingston : 
"and so hath he commanded me first to say 
unto you, that you should assure yourself that 
he beareth you as much good will and favour as 
ever he did ; and willeth you to be of good cheer. 
And where 5 report hath been made unto him, 
that ye should commit against his royal majesty 
certain heinous crimes, which he thinketh to be 
untrue, yet for the ministration of justice, in 
such cases requisite, and to avoid aU suspect of 
partiality [he] can do no less at the least than 
to send for you to your trial, mistrusting nothing 
your truth and wisdom, but that ye shall be able 
to acquit yourself against aU complaints and 
accusations exhibited against you ; and to take 
your journey towards him at your own pleasure, 
commanding me to be attendant upon you with 

■'' ivhciT for ivJicrcfih'. 



CARDINAL WOLSEY. 377 

ministration of due reverence, and to see your 
person preserved from all damage and incon- 
veniences that might ensue ; and to elect all 
such your old servants, now his, to serve you 
by the way, who have most experience of your 
diet. Therefore, sir, I beseech your grace to be 
of good cheer ; and when it shall be your good 
pleasure to take your journey, I shall give mine 
attendance." *' Master Kingston," quoth my 
lord, " I thank you for your good news : and, 
sir, hereof assure yourself, that if I were as able 
and as lusty as I have been but of late, I would 
not fail to ride with you in post: but, sir, I 
am diseased with a flux^ that maketh me very 
weak. But, Master Kingston, all these com- 
fortable words which ye have spoken be but for 
a purpose to bring me into a fool's paradise : I 
know what is provided for me. Notwithstand- 
ing, I thank you for your good will and pains 
taken about me ; and I shall with all speed make 
me ready to ride with you to-morrow." And 



^ 111 the old garbled editions the passage stands thus : " But 
alas ! I am a diseased man, having a fluxe (at which time it was 
apparent that he had poisoned himself) ; it hath made me very 
weak/' p. 108j edit. 1641. This is a most barefaced and unwar- 
ranted interpolation. The words do not occur in any of the MSS. 
Yet the charge of his having poisoned himself was repeated by 
many ^vritcrs among the reformers without scruple. See Tinilall's 
Works, p. tO't. Supplications to the Queen's Majesty, fol. 7. A. 1). 
1555. Fox's Acts, p. *)5f). 



378 THE LIFE OF 

thus they fell into other communication, both 
the earl and Master Kingston with my lord ; who 
commanded me to foresee and provide that all 
things might be made ready to depart the morrow 
after. I caused all things to be trussed up, and 
made in a readiness as fast as they could con- 
veniently. 

When night came that we should go to bed, 
my lord waxed very sick through his new dis- 
ease, the which caused him still continually from 
time to time to go to the stool all that night ; 
insomuch from the time that his disease took 
him, unto the next day, he had above fifty stools, 
so that he was that day very weak. The matter 
that he voided was wondrous black, the which 
physicians call choler adustine; and when he 
perceived it, he said to me, " If I have not some 
help shortly, it will cost me my life." With that 
I caused one doctor Nicholas, a physician, being 
with the earl, to look upon the gross matter that 
he avoided ; upon sight whereof he determined 
how he should not live past four or five days ; 
yet notwithstanding he would have ridden with 
Master Kingston that same day, if the Earl of 
Shrewsbury had not been. Therefore, in con- 
sideration of his infirmity, they caused him to 
tarry all that day. 

And the next day he took his journey with 
Master Kingston and the guard. And as soon 



cardinyvl wolsey. o79 

as they espied tlieir old master, in such a la- 
mentable estate, they lamented him with weep- 
ing eyes. Whom my lord took by the hands, 
and divers times, by the way, as he rode, he 
would talk with them, sometime with one, and 
sometime with another ; at night he was lodged 
at a house of the Earl of Shrewsbury's, called 
Hardwick Hall, very evil at ease. The next day 
lie rode to Nottingham, and there lodged that 
night, more sicker, and the next day we rode to 
Leicester Abbey ; and by the way he waxed so 
sick that he was divers times likely to have fallen 
from his mule -^ ; and being night before we came 



- " This is an aflfecting picture/' says a late elegant writer. 
" Shakspeare had undoubtedly seen these words, his portrait of 
the sick and dying Cardinal so closely resembling this. But in 
these words is this chronological difficulty. How is it that Hard- 
wick Hall is spoken of as a house of the Earl of Shrewsbury's in 
the reign of Henry VIII, when it is well known that the house of 
this name between Sheffield and Nottingham, in which the Countess 
of Shrewsbury spent her widowhood, a house described in the 
Anecdotes of Painting, and seen and admired by every curious 
traveller in Derbyshire, did not accrue to the possessions of any 
part of the Shrewsbury family till the marriage of an earl, who 
was grandson to the cardinal's host, with Elizabeth Hardwick, the 
widow of Sir William Cavendish, in the time of Queen Elizabeth? 
— The truth however is, that though the story is told to every 
visitor of Hardwick Hall, that " the great child of honour. Cardinal 
Wolsey," slept there a few nights before his death ; as is also the 
story, perhaps equally unfounded, that Mary Queen of Scots was 
confined there; it was another Hardwick which received the weary 
traveller for a night in this his last melancholy pilgrimage. This 
was Hard wick-upon- Line in Nottinghamshire, a place about as far 
to the south of Mansfiold as the Hardwick in JKrbybliirv, l>u much 



380 THE LIFE OF 

to the abbey of Leicester, where at his coming 
in at the gates the abbot of the place with all 
his convent met him with the light of many 
torches ; whom they right honourably received 
with great reverence. To whom my lord said, 
" Father Abbot, I am come hither to leave my 
bones among you," whom they brought on his 
mule to the stairs foot of his chamber, and there 
alighted, and Master Kingston then took him by 
the arm, and led him up the stairs ; who told 
me afterwards that he never carried so heavy a 
burden in all his life. And as soon as he was 
in his chamber, he went incontinent to his bed, 
very sick. This was upon Saturday at night ; 
and there he continued sicker and sicker. 

Upon Monday in the morning, as I stood by 



better known, is to the north-west. It is now gone to much (Jecay, 
and is consequently omitted in many maps of the county. It is 
found in Speed. Here the Earl of Shrewsbury had a house in the 
time of Wolsey. Leland expressly mentions it. " The Erie [[of 
Shrewsbury^ hath a parke and manner place or lodge in it called 
Hardewike-upon-Line, a four miles from Newstede Abbey." Itin. 
vol. V. fol. 94, p. 108. Both the Hardwicks became afterwards the 
property of the Cavendishes. Thoroton tells us that Sir Charles 
Cavendish, youngest son of Sir William, and father of William 
Duke of Newcastle, " had begun to build a great house in this 
lordship, on a hill by the forest side, near Annesly- wood- House, 
when he was assaulted and wounded by Sir John Stanhope and 
his men, as he was viewing the work, which was therefore thought 
fit to be left off, some blood being spilt in the quarrel, then very 
hot between the two families. — Thoresbys Edit, of Thoroton, vol. 

ii. p. 294." Who wrote Cavendish's Life of Wolsev ? 

p. 18. 



CARDINAL WOLSEY. 381 

his bed side, about eight of the clock, tlie win- 
dows being close shut, having wax lights burn- 
ing upon the cupboard, I beheld him, as me 
seemed, drawing fast to his end. He perceiving 
my shadow upon the wall by his bed side, asked 
who was there ? " Sir, I am here," quoth I ; 
" How do you?" quoth he to me. " Very well, 
sir," quoth I, " if I might see your grace well." 
" What is it of the clock?" said he to me. 
" Forsooth, sir," said I, " it is past eight of the 
clock in the morning." " Eight of the clock?" 
quoth he, " that cannot be," rehearsing divers 
times, " eight of the clock, eight of the clock, 
nay, nay," quoth he at the last, " it cannot be 
eight of the clock : for by eight of the clock ye 
shall lose your master : for my time draweth near 
that I must depart out of this world." With that 
Master Doctor Palmes, a worshipful gentleman, 
being his chaplain and ghostly father, standing 
by, bade me secretly demand of him if he would 
be shriven, and to be in a readiness towards God, 
whatsoever should chance. At whose desire I 
asked him that question. " What have you to 
do to ask me any such question ?" quoth he, and 
began to be very angry with me for my pre- 
sumption ; until at the last Master Doctor took 
my part, and talked with him in Latin, and so 
pacified him. 

And after dinner, Master Kingston sent for 



382 THE LIFE OF 

me into his chamber, and at my being there, 
said to me, *' So it is, that the king hath sent me 
letters by this gentleman Master Vincent, one 
of your old companions, who hath been of late 
in trouble in the Tower of London for money 
that my lord should have at his last departing 
from him, which now cannot be found. Where- 
fore the king, at this gentleman's request, for 
the declaration of his truth hath sent him hither 
with his grace's letters directed unto me, com- 
manding me by virtue thereof to examine my 
lord in that behalf, and to have your counsel 
herein, how it may be done, that he may take it 
well and in good part. This is the chief cause 
of my sending for you ; therefore I pray you 
what is your best counsel to use in this matter 
for the true acquittal of this gentleman ?" " Sir," 
quoth I, " as touching that matter, my simple 
advice shall be this, that your own person shall 
resort unto him and visit him, and in communi- 
cation break the matter unto him ; and if he 
will not tell the truth, there be that can satisfy 
the king's pleasure therein ; and in anywise speak 
nothing of my fellow Vincent. And I would 
not advise you to tract the time with him ; for 
he is very sick, and I fear me he will not live past 
to-morrow in the morning." Then went Master 
Kingston unto him ; and asked first how he 
did, and so forth proceeded in communication. 



tAUDIXAL WOLSEY. 3H3 

wherein Master Kingston demanded of liim the 
said money, saying, " that my lord of Northum- 
berland hath found a book at Cawood that re- 
porteth how ye had but late fifteen hundred 
pounds in ready money, and one penny thereof 
will not be found, who hath made the king privy 
by his letters thereof. Wherefore the king hath 
written unto me, to demand of you if you know 
where it is become ; for it were pity that it should 
be embezzled from you both. Therefore I shall 
require you, in the king's name, to tell me the 
truth herein, to the intent that I may make just 
report unto his majesty what answer ye make 
therein." With that my lord paused awhile and 
said, " Ah, good Lord ! how much doth it grieve 
me that the king should think in me such deceit, 
wherein I should deceive him of any one penny 
that I have. Rather than I would, Master King- 
ston, embezzle, or deceive him of a mite, I would 
it were moult, and put in my mouth ;" whicli 
words he spake twice or thrice very vehemently. 
" I have nothing, ne never had (God being my 
judge), that I esteemed, or had in it any such 
delight or pleasure, but that I took it for the 
king's goods, having but the bare use of the 
same during my life, and after my death to leave 
it to the king ; wherein he hath but prevented 
my intent and purpose. And for this money 
tliat ye demand of me, I assure you it is none of 



384 THE LIFE OF 

mine ; for I borrowed it of divers of my friends 
to bury me, and to bestow among my servants, 
who have taken great pains about me, hke true 
and faithful men. Notwithstanding if it be his 
pleasure to take this money from me, I must 
hold me therewith content. Yet I would most 
humbly beseech his majesty to see them satisfied, 
of whom I borrowed the same for the discharge 
of my conscience." " Who be they?" quoth 
Master Kingston. " That shall I show you," 
said my lord. *' I borrowed two hundred pounds 
thereof of Sir John Allen of London ; and two 
hundred pounds of Sir Richard Gresham ; and 
two hundred pounds of the master of the Savoy ; 
and two hundred pounds of Doctor Hickden, 
dean of my college in Oxford ; and two hundred 
pounds of the treasurer of the church of York ; 
and two hundred pounds of the dean of York ; 
and two hundred pounds of parson Ellis my 
chaplain ; and a hundred pounds of my steward, 
whose name I have forgotten ; trusting that the 
king will restore them again their money, for it 
is none of mine." " Sir," quoth Master King- 
ston, " there is no doubt in the king ; ye need 
not to mistrust that, but when the king shall be 
advertised thereof, to whom I shall make report 
of your request, that his grace will do as shall 
become him. But, sir, I pray you, where is this 
money?" *' Master Kingston," quoth he, " I 



CARDINAL WOLSEY. 385 

will not conceal it from the king ; 1 will declare 
it to you, or I die, by the grace of God. Take 
a little patience with me, I pray you." " Well, 
sir, then will I trouble you no more at this time, 
trusting that ye will show me to-morrow." " Yea, 
that I will. Master Kingston, for the money is 
safe enough, and in an honest man's keeping ; 
who will not keep one penny from the king." 
And then Master Kingston went to his chamber 
to supper. 

Howbeit my lord waxed very sick, most like- 
liest to die that night, and often swooned, and 
as me thought di'ew fast toward his end, until it 
was four of the clock in the morning, at which 
time I asked him how he did. " Well," quoth 
he, " if I had any meat ; I pray you give me 
some." " Sir, there is none ready," said I ; " I 
wis," quoth he, " ye be the more to blame, for 
you should have always some meat for me in a 
readiness, to eat when my stomach serveth me ; 
therefore I pray you get me some ; for I intend 
this day, God willing, to make me strong, to the 
intent I may occupy myself in confession, and 
make me ready to God." " Then, sir," quoth 
I, " I will call up the cook to provide some meat 
for you ; and will also, if it be your pleasure, call 
for Master Palmes, that ye may commune with 
him, until your meat be ready." " With a good 
will," quoth he. And therewith I went first, and 



386 THE LIFE OF 

called up the cook, commanding him to prepare 
some meat for my lord ; and then I went to Mas- 
ter Palmes and told him what case my lord was 
in ; willing him to rise, and to resort to him with 
speed. And then I went to Master Kingston, and 
gave him warning, that, as I thought, he would 
not live ; advertising him that if he had any 
thing to say to him, that he should make haste, • 
for he was in great danger. " In good faith," 
quoth Master Kingston, " ye be to blame : for 
ye make him believe that he is sicker, and in 
more danger than he is." " Well, sir," quoth I, 
" ye shall not say another day but that I gave 
you warning, as I am bound to do, in discharge 
of my duty. Therefore, I pray you, whatsoever 
shall chance, let no negligence be ascribed to 
me herein ; for I assure you his life is very short. 
Do therefore now as ye think best." Yet never- 
theless he arose, and made him ready, and came 
to him. After he had eaten of a cullis made of 
a chicken, a spoonful or two ; at the last, quoth 
he, " Whereof was this cullis made ?" " For- 
sooth, sir," quoth I, " of a chicken." " Why," 
quoth he, " it is fasting day, and St. Andrew's 
Eve." " What though it be, sir," quoth Doctor 
Palmes, " ye be excused by reason of your sick- 
ness?" " Yea," quoth he, "what though? I will 
eat no more." 

Then was he in confession the space of an 



CARDINAL WOLSEY. '387 

hour. And when he had ended his confession, 
Master Kingston bade him good-morrow (for it 
was about seven of the clock in the morning) ; 
and asked him how he did. " Sir," quoth he, 
" I tarry but the will and pleasure of God, to 
render unto him my simple soul into his divine 
hands." " Not yet so, sir," quoth Master King- 
ston, " with the grace of God, ye shall live, and 
do very well ; if ye will be of good cheer." 
" Master Kingston, my disease is such that I 
cannot live ; I have had some experience in my 
disease, and thus it is : I have a flux with a con- 
tinual fever ; the nature whereof is this, that if 
there be no alteration with me of the same within 
eight days, then must either ensue excoriation 
of the entrails, or frenzy, or else present death ; 
and the best thereof is death. And as I sup- 
pose, this is the eighth day : and if ye see in me 
no alteration, then is there no remedy (although 
I may live a day or twaine), but death, which is 
the best remedy of the three." " Nay, sir, in 
good faith," quoth Master Kingston, " you be 
in such dolor and pensiveness, doubting that 
thing that indeed ye need not to fear, which 
maketh you much worse than ye should be." 
" Well, well, Master Kingston," quoth he, " I 
see the matter against me how it is framed ; but 
if I had served God as diligently as I have done 
the king, he would not have given me over in 

c c2 



388 THE LIFE OF 

my grey hairs 8. Howbeit this is the just reward 
that I must receive for my worldly diligence and 
pains that I have had to do him service ; only 
to satisfy his vain pleasure, not regarding my 
godly duty. Wherefore I pray you, with all my 
heart, to have me most humbly commended 
unto his royal majesty ; beseeching him in my 
behalf to call to his most gracious remembrance 
all matters proceeding between him and me from 
the beginning of the world unto this day, and the 
progress of the same : and most chiefly in the 
weighty matter yet depending; (meaning the 
matter newly began between him and good 
Queen Katherine) then shall his conscience de- 
clare, whether I have offended him or no. He 
is sure a prince of a royal courage, and hath a 
princely heart ; and rather than he will either 
miss or want any part of his will or appetite, he 
will put the loss of one half of his realm in 
danger. For I assure you I have often kneeled 
before him in his privy chamber on my knees, 
the space of an hour or two, to persuade him 



^ Mr. Douce has pointed out a remarkable passage in Pittscot- 
tie's History of Scotland (p. 261, edit. 1788,) in which there is a 
great resemblance to these pathetic words of the cardinal. James V. 
imagined that Sir James Hamilton addressed him thus in a dreain. 
" Though I was a sinner against God, I failed not to thee. Had 
I been as good a servant to the Lord my God as I was to thee, I 
had not died that death." 



CARDINAL WOLSEY. 389 

from his will and appetite : but I could never 
bring to pass to dissuade him therefrom. There- 
fore, Master Kingston, if it chance hereafter you 
to be one of his privy counsel, as for your wis- 
dom and other qualities ye are meet to be, I 
warn you to be well advised and assured what 
matter ye put in his head, for ye shall never put 
it out again. 

" And say furthermore, that I request his 
grace, in God's name, that he have a vigilant 
eye to depress this new pernicious sect of Lu- 
therans ^, that it do not increase within his do- 
minions through his negligence, in such a sort, 
as that he shall be fain at length to put harness 
upon his back to subdue them ; as the king of 
Bohemia did, who had good game, to see his 
rude commons (then infected with WicklifFe's 
heresies) to spoil and murder the spiritual men 
and religious persons of his realm ; the which fled 
to the king and his nobles for succour against 
their frantic rage ; of whom they could get no 



9 In the yeare 1.521, the cardinal, by virtue of his legatine au- 
thority, issued a mandate to all the bishops in the realme, to take 
the necessary means for calling in and destroying all books, printed 
or written, containing any of the errors of Martin Luther: and 
further directing processes to be instituted against all tlie posses- 
sors and favourers of sucli books, heresies, &c. The mandate con- 
tained also a list of forty-two errors of Luther. See ^Vilkins's Con- 
cilia, vol. iii. p. 690 — 693; and Strype's Ecclesiastical Memoria/s, 
vol. i. p. 36—40. W. 



390 THE LIFE OF 

help of defence or refuge, but [they] laughed 
them to scorn, having good game at thek spoil 
and consumption, not regarding their duties nor 
their own defence. And when these erroneous 
heretics had subdued all the clergy and spiritual 
persons, taking the spoil of their riches, both of 
churches, monasteries, and all other spiritual 
things, having no more to spoil, [they] caught 
such a courage of their former liberty that then 
they disdained their prince and sovereign lord 
with all other noble personages, and the head 
governors of the country, and began to fall in 
hand with the temporal lords to slay and spoil 
them, without pity or mercy, most cruelly. In- 
somuch that the king and other his nobles were 
constrained to put harness upon their backs, to 
resist the ungodly powers of those traitorous 
heretics, and to defend their lives and liberties, 
who pitched a field royal against them ; in which 
field these traitors so stoutly encountered, the 
party of them was so cruel and vehement, that 
in fine they were victors, and slew the king, 
the lords, and all the gentlemen of the realm, 
leaving not one person that bare the name or 
port of a gentleman alive, or of any person that 
had any rule or authority in the common weal. 
By means of which slaughter they have lived 
ever since in great misery and poverty without 
a head or governor, living all in common like 



CARDINAL WOLSEY. 391 

wild beasts abhorred of all Christian nations. 
Let this be to him an evident example to avoid 
the like danger, I pray you. Good Master Kmg- 
ston, there is no trust in routs, or unlawful as- 
semblies of the common people ; for when the 
riotous multitude be assembled, there is among 
them no mercy or consideration of their bounden 
duty ; as in the history of King Richard the Se- 
cond, one of his noble progenitors, which [lived] 
in that same time of WicklifFe's seditious opi- 
nions. Did not the commons, I pray you, rise 
against the king and the nobles of the realm 
of England ; whereof some they apprehended, 
whom they without mercy or justice put to death? 
and did they not fall to spoiling and robbery, to 
the intent they might bring all things in com- 
mon ; and at the last, without discretion or re- 
verence, spared not in their rage to take the 
king's most royal person out of the Tower of 
London, and carried him about the city most 
presumptuously, causing him, for the preserva- 
tion of his life, to be agreeable to their lewd 
proclamations ? Did not also the traitorous he- 
retic. Sir John Oldcastle, pitch a field against 
King Henry the Fifth, against whom the king- 
was constrained to encounter in his royal per- 
son, to whom God gave the victory ? Alas ! 
Master Kingston, if these be not plain precedents, 
and sufficient persuasions to admonish a prince 



392 THE LIFE OF 

to be circumspect against the semblable mis- 
chief; and if he be so neghgent, then will God 
strike and take from him his power, and diminish 
his regality, taking from him his prudent coun- 
sellors and valiant captains, and leave us in our 
own hands without his help and aid ; and then 
will ensue mischief upon mischief, inconvenience 
upon inconvenience, barrenness and scarcity of 
all things for lack of good order in the common- 
wealth, to the utter destruction and desolation 
of this noble realm, from the which mischief God 
of his tender mercy defend us. 

" Master Kingston, farewell. I can no more, 
but wish all things to have good success. My 
time draweth on fast. I may not tarry with you. 
And forget not, I pray you, what I have said 
and charged you withal : for when I am dead, 
ye shall peradventure remember my words much 
better." And even with these words he began 
to draw his speech at length, and his tongue to 
fail ; his eyes being set in his head, whose sight 
failed him. Then we began to put him in re- 
membrance of Christ's passion ; and sent for the 
abbot of the place to anneal ^ him, who came 



' To administer the extreme unction. " The ft/fth sacrament is 
anoyntynge of seke men, the whiche oyle is halowed of the bysshop, 
and mynystred by preestes to them that ben of lawful! age, in grete 
peryll of dethe : in lyghtnes and abatynge of theyr sikenes, yf God 



CARDINAL WOLSEY. 393 

with all speed, and ministered unto him all the 
service to the same belonging ; and caused also 
the guard to stand by, both to hear him talk 
before his death, and also to witness of the same ; 
and incontinent the clock struck eight, at which 
time he gave up the ghost, and thus departed 
he this present life 2. And calling to our re- 
membrance his words, the day before, how he 
said that at eight of the clock we should lose our 



wyll that they lyve ; and in forgy vynge of theyr venyal synnes, 
and releasynge of theyr payne^ yf they shal deye." Festival, fol. 
171. W. 

» He died Nov. 29, 1530. Le Neve's Fasti, p. 310. 

According to the superstitious credulity of that age, the death of 
Wolsey was said to have been preceded by a portentous storm. See 
Letters from the Bodleian, Vol. ii. page 17. In a letter from 
Dr. Tanner to Dr. Charlett, dated Norwich, Aug. 10, 1709, is the 
following passage : 

" On the other side is a coeval note at the end of an old MS. be- 
longing to our cathedral, of the odd exit of the great Cardinal 
Wolsey, not mentioned, I think, in Cavendish, or any of the ordi- 
nary historians, — much like Oliver's wind. 

" Anno Xti, 1530, nocte immediate sequente quartum diem No- 
vemb. vehemens ventus quasi per totam Angliam accidebat, et die 
proxime sequente qxiinto sc. die ejusdem mensis circa horam pri- 
mam post meridiem captus crat Drius Thomas Wulsye Cardinahs 
in aedibus suis de Cahow [Cawood] infra Diocesam suam Ebora- 
censem ; et postca in itinere ejus versus Londoniam vigilia St. An- 
dreas prox. sequente .apud Leyccstriam moricbatur, quo die ventus 
quasi Gehennalis tunc fere per totam Angliam accidebat, cujus ve- 
hcmentia apud Leystoft infra Dioc. Norwiccnscm ct alibi in di- 
versis locis infra Regnum Anglise multtc naves pcriorunt." 

Adjinem Annalium Bartholumai Cot Ion. MS. in Bibliuth. Feci. 
Cath. Norwic. habetur hwc notata. 



394? THE LIFE OF 

master, one of us looking upon an other, sup- 
posing that he prophesied of his departure. 

Here is the end and fall of pride and arro- 
gancy of such men, exalted by fortune to ho- 
nours and high dignities ; for I assure you, in 
his time of authority and glory, he was the 
haughtiest man in all his proceedings that then 
lived, having more respect to the worldly honour 
of his person than he had to his spiritual pro- 
fession ; wherein should be all meekness, humi- 
lity, and charity ; the process whereof I leave to 
them that be learned and seen in divine laws ^. 

After that he was thus departed. Master King- 
ston sent an empost to the king, to advertise 
him of the death of the late Cardinal of York by 
one of the guard, that both saw and heard him 
talk and die. And then Master Kingston calling 
me unto him and to the abbot, went to consulta- 
tion for the order of his burial. 

After divers communications, it was thought 
good, that he should be buried the next day fol- 
lowing; for Master Kingston would not taiTy 
the return of the empost. And it was further 



3 The excellent author of the dissertation on this life doubted 
whether this passage was not an interpolation, because " Wolsey 
is spoken of in terms so different from those used in other parts of 
the book." But it is only a proof of the integrity of the biographer, 
whose upright heart and devout catholic spirit would not conceal 
the truth. 



CARDINAL WOLSEY. 395 

thought good that the mayor of Leicester and 
his brethren should be sent for, to see him per- 
sonally dead, in avoiding of false rumours that 
might hap to say that he was not dead but still 
living. Tlien was the mayor and his brethren 
sent for ; and in tlie mean time the body was 
taken out of the bed where he lay dead ; who 
had upon him, next his body, a shirt of hair, 
besides his other shirt, which was of very fine 
linen Holland cloth ; this shirt of hair was un- 
known to all his servants being continually at- 
tending upon him in his bedchamber, except 
to his chaplain, which was his Ghostly Father ; 
wherein he was buried, and laid in a coffin of 
boards, having upon his dead corpse all such 
vestures and ornaments as he was professed in 
when he was consecrated bishop and archbishop, 
as mitre, crosses, ring, and pall, with all other 
things appurtenant to his profession. And lying 
thus all day in his coffin open and barefaced, that 
all men might see him lie there dead without 
feigning; .then when the mayor, his brethren, 
and all other had seen him, lying thus until four 
or five of the clock at night, he was carried so 
down into the church with great solemnity by 
the abbot and convent, with many torches light, 
singing such service as is done for such funerals. 
And being in the church the corpse was set in 
our lady chapel, with nian}^ and divers ta})ers of 



396 THE LIFE OF 

wax burning about the hearse, and divers poor 
men sitting about the same, holding of torches 
light in their hands, who watched about the dead 
body all night, whilst the canons sang dirige, 
and other devout orisons. And about four of the 
clock in the morning they sang mass. And that 
done, and the body interred. Master Kingston, 
with us, being his servants, were present at his 
said funeral, and offered at his mass. And by 
that time that all things were finished, and all 
ceremonies that to such a person were decent 
and convenient, it was about six of the clock in 
the morning. 

Then prepared we to horseback, being St. An- 
drew's Day the Apostle, and so took our journey 
towards the court ^, being at Hampton Court ; 
where the king then lay. And after we came thi- 
ther, which was upon St. Nicholas' Eve, we gave 
attendance upon the council for our depeche. 

Upon the morrow I was sent for by the king 
to come to his grace ; and being in Master King- 
ston's chamber in the court, had knowledge 
thereof, and repairing to the king, I found him 
shooting at the rounds in the park, on the back- 



4 This passage follows in the more recent MSS. " riding that same 
day, being Wednesday, to Northampton ; and the next day to Dun- 
stable ; and the next day to London ; where we tarried untill St. 
Nicholas Even, and then we rode to Hampton Court." 



CARDINAL WOLSEY. 39? 

side of the garden. And perceiving him occu- 
pied in shooting, thought it not my duty to trou- 
ble him : but leaned to a tree, intending to stand 
there, and to attend his gracious pleasure. Be- 
ing in a great study, at the last the king came 
suddenly behind me, where I stood, and clapped 
his hand upon my shoulder; and when I per- 
ceived him, I fell upon my knee. To whom he 
said, calling me by name, " I will," quoth he, 
" make an end of my game, and then will I talk 
with you :" and so departed to his mark, whereat 
the game was ended. 

Then the king delivered his bow unto the 
yeoman of his bows, and went his way inward 
to the palace, whom I followed; howbeit he 
called for Sir John Gage, with whom he talked, 
until he came at the garden postern gate, and 
there entered ; the gate being shut after him, 
which caused me to go my ways. 

And being gone but a little distance the gate 
was opened again, and there Sir Harry Norris 
called me again, commanding me to come in to 
the king, who stood behind the door in a night- 
gown of russet velvet, furred with sables ; before 
whom I kneeled down, being with him there all 
alone the space of an hour and more, during 
which time he examined me of divers weighty 
matters, concerning my lord, wishing that liever 



398 TPIE LIFE OF 

than twenty thousand pounds that he had Uved. 
Then he asked meforthe fifteen hundred pounds, 
which Master Kingston moved to my lord before 
his death. " Sir," said 1, " I think that I can tell 
your grace partly where it is." " Yea, can you?" 
quoth the king ; " then I pray you tell me, and 
you shall do us much pleasure, nor it shall 
not be unrewarded." " Sir," said I, " if it please 
your highness, after the departure of David Vin- 
cent from my lord at Scroby, who had then the 
custody thereof, leaving the same with my lord 
in divers bags, sealed with my lord's seal, [he] 
delivered the same money in the same bags 
sealed unto a certain priest (whom I named to 
the king), safely to keep to his use." " Is this 
true?" quoth the king. " Yea, sir," quoth I, 
" without all doubt. The priest shall not be 
able to deny it in my presence, for I was at the 
delivery thereof 5." " WeU then," quoth the 
king, " let me alone, and keep this gear secret 
between yourself and me, and let no man be 
privy thereof; for if I hear any more of it, then 
I know by whom it is come to knowledge." 



5 Here is another addition, in the more recent MSS. to the fol- 
lowing effect : " Who hath gotten diverse other rich ornaments into 
his hands, the which be not rehersed or registered in any of my lords 
books of inventory, or other writings, whereby any man is able to 
charge him therewith, but only I." 



CARDINAL WOLSEY. 399 

" Three may," quoth he, " keep counsel, if two 
be away ; and if I thought that my cap knew my 
counsel, I would cast it into the fire and bum it. 
And for your truth and honesty ye shall be one 
of our servants, and in that same room with us, 
that ye were with your old master. Therefore 
go to Sir John Gage our vice chamberlain, to 
whom I have spoken already to give you your 
oath, and to admit you our servant in the same 
room ; and then go to my Lord of Norfolk, and 
he shall pay you all your whole year*s wages, 
which is ten pounds, is it not so?" quoth the 
king. " Yes, forsooth, sire," quoth I, " and I am 
behind thereof for three quarters of a year." 
" That is true," quoth the king, " for so we be 
informed, therefore ye shall have your whole 
year's wages, with our reward delivered you by 
the Duke of Norfolk." The king also promised 
me furthermore, to be my singular good and 
gi'acious lord, whensoever occasion should serve. 
And thus I departed from him. 

And as I went I met with Master Kingston 
coming from the council, who commanded me in 
their names to go straight unto them, whom they 
had sent for by him, '* And in any wise," quoth 
he, " for God's sake, take good heed what ye 
say ; for ye shall be examined of sucli certain 
words as my lord your late master had at his 



400 THE LIFE OF 

departure, and if you tell them the truth," quoth 
he, " what he said, you shall undo yourself; for 
in any wise they would not hear of it : therefore 
be circumspect what answer ye make to their 
demands." " Why, sir," quoth I, " how have ye 
done therein yourself?" *' Marry," quoth he, ** I 
have utterly denied that ever I heard any such 
words ; and he that opened the matter first is 
fled for fear; which was the yeoman of the 
guard that rode empost to the king from Lei- 
cester. Therefore go your ways, God send you 
good speed ; and when you have done, come to 
me into the chamber of presence, where I shall 
tarry your coming to see how you speed, and to 
know how ye have done with the king." 

Thus I departed, and went directly to the 
council chamber door ; and as soon as I was 
come, I was called in among them. And being 
there, my Lord of Norfolk spake to me first, and 
bade me welcome to the court, and said, " My 
lords, this gentleman hath both justly and pain- 
fully served the cardinal his master like an ho- 
nest and diligent servant ; therefore I doubt not 
but of such questions as ye shall demand of him, 
he will make just report, I dare undertake the 
same for him. How say ye, it is reported that 
your master spake certain words, even before 
his departure out of this life ; the truth whereof 



CARDINAL WOLSEY. 401 

I doubt not yc know ; and as ye know, I pray 
you report ; and fear not for no man. Ye shall 
not need to swear him, therefore go to, how say 
you, is it true that is reported?" '* Forsooth, 
sir," quoth I, " I was so diligent attending more 
to the preservation of his life than I was to note 
and mark every word that he spake : and, sir, 
indeed, he spake many idle words, as men in 
such extremities do, the which I cannot now re- 
member. If it please your lordships to call be- 
fore you Master Kingston, he will not fail to show 
you the truth." " Marry, so have we done al- 
ready," quoth they, *' who hath been here pre- 
sently before us, and hath denied utterly that 
ever he heard any such words spoken by your 
master at the time of his death, or at any time 
before." *' Forsooth, my lords," quoth I, *' then 
I can say no more ; for if he heard them not, 
I could not hear them ; for he heard as much 
as I, and I as much as he. Therefore, my 
lords, it were much folly for me to declare any 
thing of untruth, which I am not able to justify." 
" Lo ! " quoth my Lord of Norfolk, " I told 
you as much before ; therefore go your ways :" 
quoth he to me, *' you are dismissed, and come 
again to my chamber anon, for I must needs 
talk with you." 

I most humbly thanked them, and so de- 



40S THE LIFE OF 

parted ; and went into the chamber of presence 
to meet with Master Kingston, whom I found 
standing in communication with an ancient gen- 
tleman, usher of the king's privy chamber, called 
Master RadclifFe. And at my coming. Master 
Kingston demanded of me, if I had been with 
the counsel ; and what answer I made them. I 
said again, that I had satisfied them sufficiently 
with my answer ; and told him the manner of it. 
And then he asked me how I sped with the 
king ; and I told him partly of our communica- 
tion ; and of his grace's benevolence and princely 
liberality ; and how he commanded me to go to 
my Lord of Norfolk. As we were speaking of 
him, he came from the council into the chamber 
of presence ; as soon as he espied me, he came 
unto the window, where I stood with Master 
Kingston and Master RadclifFe ; to whom I de- 
clared the king's pleasure. These two gentlemen 
desired him to be my good lord. " Nay," quoth 
he, " I will be better unto him than ye wene ; 
for if I could have spoken with him before he 
came to the king, I would have had him to my 
service; (the king excepted) he should have 
done no man service in all England but only me. 
And look, what I may do for you, I will do it 
with right good will." " Sir, then," quoth I, 
" would it please your grace to move the king's 



CARDINAL WOLSEY. 40o 

majesty in my behalf, to give me one of the carts 
and horses that brought up my stuff with my 
lord's (which is now in the tower), to cany it 
into my country." " Yea, marry, will I," quoth 
he, and returned again to the king ; for whom I 
tarried still with Master Kingston. And Master 
Radcliffe, who said, that he would go in and 
help my lord in my suit with the king. And 
incontinent my lord came forth, and showed me, 
how the king was my good and gracious lord ; 
and had given me six of the best horses that I 
could choose amongst all my lord's cart horses, 
with a cart to carry my stuff, and five marks for 
my costs homewards ; and " hath commanded 
me," quoth he, " to deliver you ten pounds for 
your wages ; being behind unpaid ; and twenty 
pounds for a reward ;" who commanded to call 
for Master Secretary to make a warrant for all 
these things. Then was it told him, that Master 
Secretary was gone to Hanworth for that night. 
Then commanded he one of the messengers of 
the chamber to ride unto him in all haste for 
those warrants ; and willed me to meet with him 
the next day at London ; and there to receive 
both my money, my stuff, and horses, that the 
king gave me : and so I did ; of whom I received 
all things according, and then I returned into 
my country. 

D D 2 



404 THE LIFE OF 

And thus ended the life of my late lord and 
master, the rich and triumphant legate and 
cardinal of England, on whose soul Jesu have 
mercy ! Amen. 

Finis quod G. C. 



Who list to read and consider, with an indif- 
ferent eye, this history, may behold the wondrous 
mutability of vain honours, the brittle assurance 
of abundance ; the uncertainty of dignities, the 
flattering of feigned friends, and the tickle trust 
to worldly princes. Whereof this lord cardinal 
hath felt both of the sweet and the sour in each 
degree ; as fleeting from honours, losing of riches, 
deposed from dignities, forsaken of friends, and 
the inconstantness of princes favour ; of all which 
things he hath had in this world the full felicity, 
as long as fortune smiled upon him : but when 
she began to frown, how soon was he deprived 
of all these dreaming joys and vain pleasures. 
The which in twenty years with great travail, 
study, and pains, obtained, were in one year and 
less, with heaviness, care, and sorrow, lost and 
consumed. O madness ! O foolish desire ! O 



CARDINAL WOLSEY. 405 

fond hope ! O greedy desire of vain honours, 
dignities, and riches ! Oh what inconstant trust 
and assurance is in rolling fortune ! Wherefore 
the prophet said full well, Thesaurkat, et ignorat, 
cui congregabit ea. Who is certain to whom he 
shall leave his treasure and riches that he hath 
gathered together in this world, it may chance 
him to leave it unto such as he hath purposed ? 
but the wise man saith, TJiat an other i^rson^ 
who peradventm'e he hated in his life^ shall spend 
it out, ami consume it. 



THE END. 



ADDITIONAL NOTES 



LIFE OF WOLSEY. 



Page 95. The Letter of Anstis, referred to in the note, is 
addressed to Fiddes, and is printed in his Collections. It 
relates to a rude representation of the House of Lords in the 
reign of King Henry VIII. but that learned herald and an- 
tiquary has made it the vehicle of some observations, which 
may not be misplaced here. 

" Almost every action of Wolsey hath been interpreted 
as an instance of pomp, ambition, or insolence ; notwith- 
standing, probably, upon a strict examination, most of them 
will be found to be strictly precedented. This particular of 
two crosses gave Polydore Virgil an opportunity of making 
an uncharitable reflection : " Non contentus una cruce, qua 
utebatur, quod Archiepiscopus esset Eboracensis, alteram 
prae so ferri voluit, per duos sacerdotes statura elegantes, et 
equis magnis insidentes, qui aperto capite, quocunque anni 
tempore incederent. Nunc plane constat Wolsaeum suai sibi 
conscium esse culpse, qui propterea binas in pompa habet 
cruces, quod una non satis foret ad ejus expianda commissa." 
Anstis then cites the passage from Roy's satire, wliich he 
mistakingly attributes to Skelton ; and proceeds thus : " Here 
is a long catalogue, and yet possibly not one particular is 
singular to tlie cardinal. For the same honours, according 
to the known customs of Rome, were to be paid to every 
Legate de Latere as to the sovereign pontiff himself : Nay, he 
might of right use all papal ensigns and ornaments, for which 
Parisius (De Rcsignat. L. 7- q"- 13. n. 6 et 7) produces tlie 
vouchers." 



408 ADDITIONAL NOTES. 

" I know not what was the figure of the pillars here men- 
tioned j but it was not an unusual ensign, because Chaucer, 
in the Plowman's Tale, v. 2044, setting forth the duty of a 
clergyman, says thus : 

And usin none yerthly honours, 
Ne croune, ne curious covertours, 
Ne pillar, ne other proud pall, &c. 

According to the present customs in this country, no one 
will charge the cardinal's riding on a mule to be a mark of his 
insolence or haughtiness, neither was it any testimony of his 
humility, but a usage of his age, in correspondence to the 
ancient practice of clergymen, who esteemed it unbecoming 
them to ride upon a horse, when our Saviour rode on the 
foal of an ass. Thus St. Basil on Psalm 32, Exclusus est 
ah usu sanctorum equus. And here I cannot forbear from 
diverting you with the odd simplicity of the style Avherein 
Peraldus (Summse de Superbia, torn. 2) expresses himself on 
this occasion : " Christus nunquam equitavit, tantum semel 
asinavit, atque adeo neque mulavit, neque palafredavit, neque 
dromedariavit." His sentiment was as of some other rigid 
disciplinarians at that time, that the clergy should travel on 
foot. It is well known that our judges, till the first year of 
Queen Mary, rode always to Westminster on mules, (v. 
Dugdal. Orig. Juridic. p. 38). Christopher Urswicke, who 
had been Dean of Windsor, in his will made 10 Oct. 1521, 
devises to Mr. Cuthbert Tunstall, Maister of the Rolls, " his 
gowne of blacke furred with martron, his typpet of sarcenet 
furred with sables, and his little mule with saddle and bridle 
and all hir harneys." (Lib. Mainwaryng, in Cur. Praerog.) 
And upon the motive of an aifected humility it doubtless 
was that John de Beverle, in his will dated 1380, " Volo 
quod corpus meum sit ductum ab hospitio meo per duos 
asinos, si possint inveniri." (Registr. Beckingham Episcopi 
Lincoln.) The sumptuary law for apparel, 24 Hen. 8. c. 13, 
prohibits all persons to wear upon their horse, mule, or other 
beast, any silk of purpure, &c. Of the custom of the clergy, 
see Bede Eccles. Hist. 1. 3, c. 14, and 1. 4, c. 3 : and that 
they first began to ride on mares, 1. 2, c. 13, unless there 



ADDITIONAL NOTES. 409 

be some error in the print. As to Cardinals, David Chambrc, 
in his History of the Popes abridged, acquaints us that In- 
nocent IV. gave them liberty to ride on horseback, and that 
Pope Clement V. ordained they should ride upon asses, ac- 
cording to the example of our Saviour. 

But these rich trappings and housings of the cardinal's mule 
may give offence; herein he could justify himself by an 
especial privilege to those of his degree : — Equitare mulas 
j)haleratas, et clavain argenteam ante se deforre (CoheUi 
Notitia Cardinalatus, p. 28). Here then is a poleaxe or mace 
also, and the same author, p. 30, acquaints us that in the 
Roman court the cardinals " dum equitant mulas, praemit- 
tunt apparitores cum argcnteis clavis et bulgis ab acupic- 
toribus gentilitiis insignibus auro et argento redimitis, necnon 
famulos duos pedissequos (parafrsenarios vocant) baculis duo- 
bus jnnixos." 



Page 137- The circumstances attending the interception of 
De Praet's dispatches, mentioned in the note, are thus related 
in a letter of Wolsey's to Mr. Sampson, printed in the Appen- 
dix to Gait's Life of Wolsey, p. civ. No. vi. 4to. 1812. 

" It hath bene of a long season, and from sundry parts, 
reported unto the king's hignes and to me at divers times, 
that Mon^"" de Praet, who resideth here ambassador for the 
emperor, hath continually bene a man disposed and inclined 
to make, in his letters and writings, both to the emperor and 
the Lady IMargaret, seditious and sinister reports ; saying 
many times, upon his own fantasic, suspicion, and conjecture, 
tilings clearly untrue, and compassing at other times, when 
things have been done, sayd, or set forth, frendly, kindlie, and 
lovinglie, soe to cowch his reports, and the circumstances 
of the doings thereof, as though the gratuities shewed by 
the king's highnes, have from time to time been conduced 
by the industrie, pollicy, and labour of the sayd ambassa- 
dors; ascribing, therefore, the laude and thank therof unto 
himself, wherby he might acquire the more grace and favor 
of the sayd emperor and Lady iMargaret. To these things 



410 ADDITIONAL NOTES. 

the kings highnes and I were not over hasty to give soone 
creddence; but supposing the sayd ambassador to be a 
p''sonage of more vertue and inclinacion to good then now he 
proveth to be, I would some times admonish him, in general 
words of such advertisement ; exhorting and advising liim to 
be well ware how he, being a minister betwene two princes 
so neerly conjoined in intelligence, should attempt or doe any 
thing to the hinderance thereof; but rather, regarding the 
office of a good ambassador to doe that in him is for the 
nourishing and increase of the same. Wherein he alwayes 
made me such answere that I conceaved noe further suspicion 
or jealousy towards him in that behalfe ; being therefore the 
more franke and plaine with him in ail my conferences, as he, 
that for the singuler good mind which I have alwayes borne 
unto the emperors honor, weale, and suretie, would procede 
with his majestie, siiicerelie, plainely, and truelie. And. as 
familiarly, kindly, and lovinglie hath the kings highnes and 
I admitted, entertayned, and used the sayd de Praet at all 
times, as the most hearty love betwene the kings highnes and 
his majestie doth require, making him privie, and having him 
present, at all such comunicacions and accesses have bene 
of other princes ambassadors, or of any matter worthy adver- 
tisement or knowledge, to the intent that he should make most 
credible and plaine relacion thereof unto th'emperor and other 
to whom it appertained." 

-5t ********** ** 

* He then relates, that upon one occasion he sent for the 
ambassador " to make him participant of such newes as the 
kings highnes and I had received, as also to understand 
whether he had any good newes in confirmation of the same." 
And after a long communication, he " seeming to be joyous 
and well contented, giving me thanks on the emperors behalfe, 
departed." 

" Three days before that, as many times is here accus- 
tomed, it was appointed that, as that night following, which 
was the xj* day at night, a privie watch should be made in 
London, and by a certaine cercoute and space about it: in 
the which watch was taken, passing between London and 



ADDITIONAL NOTES. 411 

Brainford, by ccrtuine of the watch appointed to that quarter, 
one ryding towards the said Brainford ; Avho, examined by 
the watcli, answered soe closely, that upon suspicion thereof 
they searched him, and found seacretly hid about him a little 
pacquet of letters, subscribed in French, which the sayd 
watch p'ceaving, brought the letters unto a man of lawes 
clarke, being of the same company ; who, supposing the bearer 
of them to be either a spie or a messenger from some merchant, 
stranger, or other, intendinge to disclose things unto the em- 
peror, and P'ceaving the sayd pacquet to be in the taking 
of it, by the unlearned men of the watch, broken and evil 
handled, looked in the letters. And thinking the same, by 
reason of the ciphers, more suspect, brought it unto the king's 
solicitor, being in the same Avatch ; who not acquainted with 
the name of the sayd de Praet, brought the letters soe opened 
unto Sir Thomas Moore, being in another watch neere unto 
the same ; and he presented them, in the morning folloAving, 
unto me, being in the chancery at Westminster ; which, when 
I had read, knowing how farr the effect of them was discrepant 
from the truth, anon I conceived the former advitisements 
made unto me touching the said ambassadors accustomed 
usage in making sinister reports, to be true. And p'ceyving 
by the sayd letters, that albeit the usage is not here that 
strangers should passe through the realme without a passport, 
yet one of the foulkes was depeched by the sayd ambassador 
the day before with letters towards Spaine, — wherin it was 
like there might be as evill or worse report then in these, 
I with all diligence sent to countermande the sayd former 
letters, or any other depeched at that time by the sayd am- 
bassador. And soe was taken also a pacquet of his letters 
directed to my Lady Margaret, Avhich original letters directed 
unto th'emperor, mth copies of those addressed unto my Lady 
Margaret, viewed and overlooked, and the untruth mencioued 
in them deprehended, I send unto your hands herewith, as 
well because th'emperor may know such things as his folkes 
on this side doe advertise his majestic of, which may conferr 
to the furtherance of his affaires ; as also, because the sami* 



412 ADDITIONAL NOTES. 

may hereby the more assuredlie and p'fectHe understand and 
p'"ceave that the sayd de Praet hath of lykelyhood contrived 
noe few matters untrue and fayned in his letters sent of a 
long season^ as well into Spayne as into Flanders. Wherof 
there is much apparance, by reason of such proceeding, 
strange demeanour, and suspicion, as hath seemed to have 
bene had towards the kings grace, both on that side and in 
Flanders of a good season, soe that it is evident to be con- 
jectured that the sayd de Praet hath done more hurt, de- 
triment, and damage, by his evil reports in the comon affaires, 
then ever he can be able to reduble or amend ; and surely has 
by the same deserved much more blame than I will reherse." 
He then enters into detail of the misrepresentations of De 
Praet, who, he says, would have long since been denounced 
to the emperor as " a man of insufficient qualities, inexpert 
and far unmeet to be ambassador from so great a prince," had 
it not been out of courtesy to that potentate and his council. 
And further, that " De Praet being not a little abashed, ne 
without cause, made first exception at the intercepting of his 
letters, as he would not give credence to the manner of their 
interception, and the opening of them by a fortunate error, as 
is aforesayd, saying that ambassadors doe write unto their 
princes that which in their conceipt is thought good, referring 
the judgment unto others. He affirmed also, that till this 
time it could not ne should be ever found in any of his letters, 
that he hath made evill report either of the king's highnes or 
of me, as by his original letters, which he sayd he desired and 
would be gladd should and might be showed, he would be 
judged, and that the cause and occasion moving him thus to 
write at this time, was only the being here of John Joachym 
by viij moneths, the difficulty made to condescend unto the 
truce proposed at Rome, the not advancing of an army on this 
side, as was spoken of, and the refusal of the kings highnes 
to contribute any thing to the defence of Italy." 

To this Wolsey states the long and circumstantial answer 
he gave, in which he asserts that he was not privy to Joachinos 
coming, and that it was some time after his arrival that he 



ADDITIONAL NOTES. 413 

disclosed to him what he was, and that as soon as he discovered 
himself to be sent from the Lady Regent, he made de Praet 
privy thereto, praying him to advertise the Lady Margaret 
and the emperor, as he also would do and did. 

To this he states ' that De Praet could make no other an- 
swer than that he ^vrote his fantasy, and remitted the judgment 
to wiser men.' The whole letter is well worth attention as 
an example of Wolsey's talent in diplomacy ; and though his 
apology is not very convincing, it must be confessed to be very 
skilful and ingenious. 



APPENDIX. 



EXTKACTS FROM THE LIFE 



THE VIRTUOUS CHRISTIAN AND RENOWNED 

QUEEN ANNE BOLEIGNE. 

BY GEORGE WYATT, ESQ. 

WRITTEN AT THE CLOSE OF THE SIXTEENTH CENTURY. 

FROM THE MANUSCRIPT COLLECTIONS OF THE REV. JOHN LEWIS. 



Great princes favourites their fair leaves spread, 
But as the marigold at the sun's eye ; 
And in themselves their pride lies buried, 
For at a frown they in their glory die. 

Shakspeare. 



Among the other calumnies "with which the memory of 
the unfortunate Qjieen Jnne Bolcjtjn has been a^jjersed 
by the enemies of the Reformation, it has been said — 
" that she lutd long carried on a criminal intercourse 
with Sir Thomas Wyatt the poet ; who, we are told, had 
gone so Jar as to confess to the Icing that he had de- 
bauched her ; and had urged this, in the first instance, 
as an argument to dissuade the king from marrying 
her!''' The story requires no refutation; but Wyatfs 
name having been called in question when Anne Boleyn^s 
conduct was scrutinized, gave the forgers of fabulous 
history an opportunity of engrafting their libellcnis in- 
ventions on slight chxumstances, in order to give them 
something of the colour qf probability. How far there 
was any foundation for these calumnies will noio appear. 
Tlie following interesting pages were written, it is pre- 
sumed, by the grandson of the poet, George Wyatt, 
Esquire, sixth son and heir qf Sir Thomas Wyatt the 
younger, who was beheaded for rebellion in the first year 
of the reign qf Queen Mary. The writer died at the 
advanced age qf eighty, at Boxlcy in Kent, in the year 
1624, and seems to have meditated a complete exposure 
of such parts of Saunders Booh on the Reformation as 
came witldn his own immediate knowledge. He toas 
maternal uncle to Sir Roger Twysden, and in 1623 com- 
mnnicated to him part qf his collections. A fragment 
qf the Lfe qf Cardinal Wolsey, by George Cavendish, 
was in the late Mr. Bindley' s library, to which toe have 
already referred, at p. \^0 qf the present edition ; prefixed 
to lohich was the folloioing note by Sir Roger Twysden. — 

E E 2 



420 

" / receaved this from my uncle Wyatt, Anno 1623, who 
heeing' yonge had gathered many notes towching this 
lady, not without an intent to have opposed Saunders!''' 
It is remarkable that this fragment from Wolsey's Life 
has been twice printed as apiece qf original and authentic 
cotemporary history, without suspicion qf its being cm 
extract from Cavendish; — the first time for private dis- 
tribution, in 1808, and secondly by Dr. Nott, in his ap- 
pendix to Wyatfs Poems, in 1816. 

The manuscript from which the present very interesting 
memoir is printed was purchased at the late Sir Peter 
Thompson's sale. It is in the hand writing of the Rev. 
John Lewis, of the Isle of Thanet, the celebrated anti- 
quary. It was printed in 1817,^r a few noblemen and 
gentlemen, but twenty-seven copies only having been taken 
off, may be considered still to have almost the rarity of a 
manuscript. 



SOME PARTICULARS 



LIFE OF QUEEN ANNE BOLEIGNE. 



The peculiar means that I have had, more than 
others, to come to some more particular knowledge of 
such things as I intend to handle, ought to draw thus 
much from me ; yet much more the request of him that 
hath been by authority set on work in this important 
business, both for the singular gifts of God in him, of 
wisdom, learning, integrity, and virtue; and also the 
encouragement I have had of late from the right reverend 
my Lord of Canterbury's grace, to set down what under- 
standing I have had of this matter, is both my warrant, 
and a bond the more upon my conscience, to hold me 
urged and constrained not to neglect such an opportunity 
of my service to the church, my prince, and country. 
Principally his desire was, and my purpose in satisfying 
it, to deliver what I knew, touching certain things that 
liappened to the excellent lady, the Lady Anne Bo- 
LEiGNE, about the time of her first coming to the court. 
Yet, considering I had some other knowledge of things 
that might be found serviceable no less than that, and 
also might give light and hfe to the faithful narration of 
this whole matter, I have supposed it would fall best, to 



4»% MEMOIll OF QUEEK 

deliver the same, as it were, vmder the description of her 
whole life ; and this the more particularly and frankly, 
that, all things known, those that I understood w^ere to 
visit it again might take what they should think most 
material for their vise. And would to God I could give 
that grace and felicity of style unto it that the worthiness 
of the subject doth require, notwithstanding that in this 
regard I am the less carefull, for that it is to pass through 
their hands that can give it better vesture ; and I shall 
the more turn my care to intend the sincere and faithful 
delivery of that which I have received from those that both 
were most likely to come to the most perfect knowledge 
hereof, and had least cause or, otherwise for themselves, 
could least give just reason of suspicion to any, either of 
mind, or partiality, or wit, to fayne or misreport any 
whit hereof. And, indeed, chiefly the relation of those 
things that I shall set down is come from two. One a 
lady', that first attended on her both before and after 
she was queen, with whose house and mine there was 
then kindred and strict alliance. The other also a lady 
of noble birth, living in those times, and well acquainted 
with the persons that most this concerneth, from whom 
I am myself descended. A little, therefore, repeating 
the matter more high, I will derive the discourse hereof 
from the very spring and fountains, whence may appear 
most clearly by what occasion and degrees the stream of 
this whole cause hath gi'own to such an ocean as it were 
of memorable effects tlirough all our parts of Christendom, 
not by chance or wits of men so much as even by the 
apparent work of God, as I hope presently to make plain 
to all men. 

' Mrs. Anne Gainsford. 



AWE BOLEYN. 423 

Tlie see of Rome having risen, in this our age, unto 
a full tide of all wickedness, had overflowed all these 
parts of the world with the floods of lier evils, Avhereby 
was occasioned and had beginning the ebb of all her 
pomp, power, and glory, every particular devising, as if 
it had been by one consent and accord (so showing it the 
more apparently to come of God), to provide for the 
time to come against her so great inundation of mischiefs. 
Hereof, in England, Germany, Italy, and in many other 
places, sundi-y persons of singular learning and piety, 
one succeeding another, at divers times, opened their 
mouths as trumpets to call men to this work upon several 
occasions, all rising from the outrageous corruptions 
and foaming filth of that see. But chiefly and most 
notoriously, in the time of Henry the Eighth, of famous 
memory, this came to pass by the just judgment of God 
upon her, and his mercy upon us, where the same polity 
by which she had in custom, and then made herself most 
assured, to strengthen herself in giving to princes licence 
to unlawful contracts (esteeming thereby to tie them and 
their issue the more strongly to her) ; the bond of so 
evil counsel breaking suddenly, set at Mberty the certain 
means of this great opposition against her after almost 
through all Europe. So little assurance especially have 
evil foundations of usurped authorities against the pro- 
voked judgments of God by sin, and general displeasure 
of man upon just conceived indignities. 

There was, at this present, presented to the eye of tlie 
court the rare and admirable beauty of the fresh and 
young Lady Anne Boleigne, to be attending upon the 
queen. In this noble imp, the graces of nature graced 
by gracious education, seemed even at the first to have 
promised bliss unto her aftertimes. She was taken at 



424 MEMOIR OF QUEEN 

that time to have a beauty not so whitely as clear and 
fresh above all we may esteem, which appeared much 
more excellent by her favour passing sweet and cheerful ; 
and these, both also increased by her noble presence of 
shape and fashion, representing both mildness and ma- 
jesty more than can be expressed. There was found, 
indeed, upon the side of her nail upon one of her fingers, 
some little show of a nail, which yet was so small, by the 
report of those that have seen her, as the workmaster 
seemed to leave it an occasion of greater grace to her 
hand, which, with the tip of one of her other fingers, 
might be and was usually by her hidden without any 
least blemish to it. Likewise there were said to be upon 
some parts of her body certain small moles incident to 
the clearest complexions. And certainly both these were 
none other than might more stain their writings with 
note of mahce that have caught at such hght motes in 
so bright beams of beauty, than in any part shadow it, 
as may right well appear by many arguments, but chiefly 
by the choice and exquisite judgments of many brave 
spirits that were esteemed to honour the honourable parts 
in her, even honoured of envy itself 

Amongst these, two were observed to be of principal 
mark. The one was Sir Thomas Wiat, the elder 2, the 
other was the king himself. The knight, in the be- 
ginning, coming to behold the sudden appearance of this 
new beauty, came to be holden and surprised somewhat 
with the sight thereof; after much more with her witty 
and graceful speech, his ear also had him chained xmto 
her, so as finally his heart seemed to say, / could gladly 



* See the Earl of Surrey's character of him, in an Elegy on his 
Death, among his poems. 




SIR T!H[OMA.S W"ifA.TT KT 



AXXE BOLKYX. 425 

yield to be tied for ever 'Uiitli the knot of' her love, as 
somewhere in his verses hath been thought his meaning 
was to express 3. She, on the other part, finding him to 
be then married, and in the knot to have been tied then 
ten years, rejected all his speech of love ; but yet in 
such sort as whatsoever tended to regard of her honour, 
she showed not to scorn, for the general favour and good 
will she perceived all men to bare him, which might the 
rather occasion others to turn their looks to that which a 
man of his worth was brought to gaze at in her, as, 
indeed, after it happened. The king is held to have 
taken his first apprehension of this love after such time 
as upon the doubt in those treaties of marriage with his 
daughter Mary, first with the Spaniard, then with the 
French : by some of the learned of his o\vn land he had 
vehemently in their public sermons, and in his confessions 
to his ghostly fathers, been prayed to forsake that his 
incestuous life by accompanying with his brother's wife ; 
and especially after he was moved by the cardinal, then 
in his greatest trust with the king, both for the better 
quietness of his conscience, and for more sure settling of 
the succession to more prosperous issue. 



3 It is presumed that the allusion is here to Sir Thomas Wyatt's 
verses entitled " A description of such a one as he would love :" 

A face that should content me wonderous well. 

Should not be faire, but lovely to behold : 

Of lively loke, all griefe for to repel 

With right good grace, so would I that it should 

Speak, without words, such words as none can tell ; 

Her tresse also should be of cresped gold. 

With wit and these perchance I might be tide 
And knit againc the knot that should not slide. 

Songcs and Soncttcs, St'o. 1557, ]i, 35. 2. 



426 MEMOIR OF QUEEN 

About this time, it is said that the knight, entertaining- 
talk with her as she was earnest at work, in sporting 
wise caught from her a certain small jewel hanging by a 
lace out of her pocket, or otherwise loose, which he thrust 
into his bosom, neither with any earnest request could 
she obtain it of him again. He kept it, therefore, and 
wore it after about his neck, under his cassock, promising 
to himself either to have it with her favour or as an 
occasion to have talk with her, wherein he had singular 
dehght, and she after seemed not to make much reckon- 
ing of it, either the thing not being much worth, or not 
worth much striving for. The noble prince having a 
watchful eye upon the knight, noted him more to hover 
about the lady, and she the more to keep aloof of him ; 
was whetted the more to discover to her his affection, so 
as rather he liked first to try of what temper the regard 
of her honour was, which he finding not any way to be 
tainted with those things his kingly majesty and means 
could bring to the battery, he in the end fell to win her 
by treaty of marriage, and in this talk took from her a 
ring, and that wore upon his little finger ; and yet all 
this with such secrecy was carried, and on her part so 
wisely, as none or very few esteemed this other than an 
ordinary course of dalliance. Within few days after, it 
happened that the king, sporting himself at bowls, had 
in his company (as it falls out) divers noblemen and other 
courtiers of account, amongst Avhom might be the Duke 
of Suffolk, Sir F. Brian, and Sir T. Wiat, himself being 
more than ordinarily pleasantly disposed, and in his game 
taking an occasion to affirm a cast to be his that plainly 
appeared to be otherwise ; those on the other side said, 
with his grace''s leave, they thought not, and yet, still he 
pointing with his finger whereon he -wore her ring, replied 



ANNE BOI.EYN. 427 

often it was his, and specially to the knight he said, Wiat, 
I tell thee it is mine, smiHng upon him withal. Sir 
Thomas, at the length, casting his eye upon the king's 
finger, perceived that the king meant the lady whose 
ring that was, which he well knew, and pausing a little, 
and finding the king bent to pleasure, after the words 
repeated again by the king, the knight repKed, And if 
it may hke your majesty to give me leave to measure it, 
I hope it will be mine ; and withal took from his neck 
the lace whereat hung the tablet, and therevv^ith stooped 
to measure the cast, which the king espying, knew, and 
had seen her wear, and therewithal spurned away the 
bowl, and said. It may be so, but then am I deceived ; 
and so broke up the game. This thing thus carried was 
not perceived for all this of many, but of some few it 
was. Now the king, resorting to his chamber, showing- 
some discontentment in his countenance, found means to 
break this matter to the lady, who, with good and evident 
proof how the knight came by the jewel, satisfied the 
king so effectually that this more confirmed the king's 
opinion of her truth than himself at the first could have 
expected. Shortly, upon the return of the cardinal, the 
matter of the dutchess'* cooling every day more and more, 
his credit also Avaned till it was utterly eclipsed ; and 
that so busied the great personages that they marked the 
less the king's bent, the rather for that some way it 
seemed helpful to their working against the cardinal. 
The king also took here opportunity to proceed to dis- 
cover his full and whole meaning unto the lady's father, 
to whom we may be sure the news was not a httle joyful. 



'hf King or France's bister. 



428 MEMOIR OF QUEEK 

All this notwithstanding, her virtue was not so dased 
with the glory of so forcible attractives, but that she 
stood still upon her guard, and was not, as we would 
suppose, so easily taken with all these appearances of 
happiness ; whereof two things appeared to be the causes. 
One the love she bare ever to the queen whom she served, 
that was also a personage of great viriue : the other her 
conceit that there was not that freedom of conjunction 
with one that was her lord and king as with one more 
agreeable to her estate. These things being well per- 
ceived of, the queen shew she knew well to frame and 
work her advantage of, and therefore the oftener had her 
at cards with her, the rather also that the king might 
have the less her company, and the lady the more excuse 
to be from him ; also she esteem herself the kindlier 
used, and yet withal the more to give the king occasion 
to see the nail upon her finger. And in this entertain- 
ment of time they had a certain game that I cannot name 
then frequented, wherein dealing, the king and queen 
meeting they stopped, and the young lady's hap was 
much to stop at a king ; which the queen noting, said to 
her playfellow. My Lady Anne, you have good hap to 
stop at a king, but you are not hke others, you will have 
all or none. So often earnest matters are dehvered under 
game. Yet had the king his times, and she in the end 
yielded to give her consent of marriage to him, whom 
hardly ever any before was found able to keep their hold 
against. This was now so far to the pleasure of the king, 
that forthwith he with her and her father concluded to 
open the matter to the council, all other things being 
ripe thereunto, and specially for that it was not possible 
to keep it any longer from the talk of men near his 
person, and the more, the queen being found to take 



ANNE BOI.EVX. 429 

such knowledge thereof. It is tliought then the table 
was diversely carried to give opinion upon this matter ; 
some of the nobility wishing rather to have had so good 
hap lighted to some of their own houses ; others that it 
had not been at all ; some inclining to either of these as 
depending on them ; but most liked better the king''s 
o^vll choice, both for the hope of issue, and that the 
greatness of great men should not grow too great to sway 
with in managing of matters of state. But howsoever, 
it appeared manifestly that presently there were practices 
discovered on all sides under sundry arts, on the parts of 
Spain, from Rome and that faction, and from the queen 
herself, and specially some with the king, some with the 
lady herself, plotted to break or stay at the least till 
something might fall between the cup and the Hp, that 
might break all this purpose with one of them, if it 
might have been. And verily one of these may seem for 
this present occasion not unmeet to be recounted ; which 
was this : There was conveyed to her a book pretending 
old prophecies, wherein was represented the figure of 
some personages, with the letter H upon one, A upon 
another, and K upon the third, which an expounder 
thereupon took upon him to interpret by the king and 
his wives, and to her pronouncing certain destruction if 
she married the king. This book coming into her 
chamber, she opened, and finding the contents, called to 
her maid of whom we have spoken before, who also bore 
her name : " Come hither. Nan," said she, " see here a 
book of prophecy ; this he saith is the king, this the 
queen, mourning, weeping and wringing her hands, and 
this is myself with my head off." The maid answered, 
" If I thought it true, though he were an emperor, I 
would not myself marry him with that condition.'" " Yes, 



430 MEMOIK OF QUEEX 

Nan," replied the lady, " I think the book a bauble ; 
yet for the hope I have that the realm may be happy by 
my issue, I am resolved to have him whatsoever might 
become of me."" 

The Romish fable-framer S, if he may be believed, 
affirmeth another practice after this sort: " That Sir 
Thomas Wiat coming to the council, for his better 
security, confessed to have had dealings with that lady, 
before he had any perceiving of the king"'s purpose of 
marriage ; but not being credited by the king, that Wiat, 
as not finding it well he was not believed, affirmed he 
would bring the king where he might see him enjoy her. 
And that again being delivered by the Duke of Suffolk 
to the king, he yet beheved it not." But it is certain 
that the whole or greatest part of this is fiction ; for the 
persons, manner, and event of these things have been 
utterly mistaken and misshapen. For I have heard by 
the report of one of right good and honourable account, 
and of much understanding in such things, who also 
hath the truth of his word in high respect, that it was 
Sir Francis Brian that confessed such a like thing to the 
king by another lady, with other success more hkely. 



^ Sanders Be Origine ac Progressu Schismatis Anglicani. Libri 3. 
This book was first printed at Cologne, in 1585, and passed through 
several editions, the last in 1628. It was subsequently translated 
into French, and printed in 1673-4 ; which induced Burnet to write 
his History of the Reformation. In the appendix to his first volume 
he gives a particular account of Sanders' book, and refutes the 
calumnies and falsehoods contained in it. This called forth a reply 
from the catholic party, under the title of Histowe du Divorce de 
Henry WW. par Joachim Le Grand. Paris, 1688, 3 vols. 12mo. 
A work not without interest on account of the documents printed 
in the third volume, some of wliich I have found useful as illus- 
trations of the present work. 



ANNE BOLF.VX. 



which was that the king thereupon pardoned him indeed, 
but rejected and gave over the lady ever after to liini. 
Whether the duke might, upon the sight of that whicli 
happened at bowls, take any occasion with the king to 
dissuade the marriage, supposing the knight could not 
or Avould not otherwise have cleared himself and the 
lady, but by confessing and craving pardon for it as 
done before he had knowledge of the king's intention, I 
cannot say ; and by guess I will not affirm it in any case 
of any, much less of so worthy and noble a personage. 
Only this I say, that if he did so, I believe verily that 
he was greatly deceived therein of his expectation ; as 
finding that by good proof the knight could clear himself 
and her of that matter, even to the full assuring and 
ascertaining of the king of the manner of his coming by 
the jewel without her dishonour, and that so the duke, 
if he did so, might come to find himself had gone too 
far, as to have purchased to himself thereby mislike both 
of the king and queen, whereupon he might turn his 
heavy displeasure to the knight ever after. I know of a 
certainty, that the knight had a most high opinion of 
that princely lady's noble virtues as by trial, and chiefly 
in the matter of the bowls ; in that she took not or in- 
terpreted ill of his deed (as herself, being in her own 
conscience clear), but as he meant it to the king's disport 
before knowledge of the marriage. This is true also, 
that Sir Thomas Wiat was twice sifted and lifted at, 
and that nobleman both times his most heavy adversary, 
as I have to show under the knighfs own hand in his 
answer to his last indictment. Neither could I ever 
learn what might be the cause of his so perpetual grudge, 
save only that it appcareth to be as old as this. Some 
man might perhaps be led to think that the duke n)ight 



4a% MEMOIR OF QUEElsr 

have a special end to draw him to enter and venture so 
far to the breaking off the match. And it is true that 
he was then married with the king's second sister, when 
the king had then remaining but one only daughter, and 
then she also questioned whether legitimate : That then 
also was procured a statute to cut off foreign titles ; and 
it is true also, that after the ambition of some to occasion 
hereby to thrust the duke's issue, even before the proper 
and lawful issue of the king, into the regal seat. All 
this notwithstanding, I will never be induced to give 
that opinion of that nobleman, but rather I would think, 
if he did any such thing, in any sort giving colour to this 
fancy of the Roman legender, he did it upon zeal that in 
his conceit it was true, and that he thought the knight 
would so far confess it as done before talk of the king's 
marriage, when he saw he had passed so far in the 
measuring of the cast. And though the whole fiction 
have scarcely so much as shadow of colour of any ap- 
pearance, yet for that part where he deviseth that Sir 
Thomas should before the council apeach himself and 
that lady, or after not being credited, offer to make the 
king see him to have to do with her, this showing itself 
sufficiently falsified to any wise and understanding reader, 
especially considering it particularly with the circum- 
stances, it is so far from all likelihood, as all .pre- 
sumptions are flat against it, as in a word or two shall 
now be showed. 

For that princely lady, she living in court where were 
so many brave gallants at that time unmarried, she was 
not like to cast her eye upon one that had been then 
married ten years. And her parents, then in good and 
honourable place, resident in court, and themselves of no 
mean condition, they would keep, no doubt, a watchful 



ANXE BOLEYN. 433 

eye over her to see she should not roam to the hin- 
derance of her own prefennent, a course so foul with one 
where was no colour of marriage. The King's eye also 
was a guard upon her, as also those that pleased the 
king in recounting the adventures of love happening in 
court made it hard, specially for the shortness of time 
after her placing there, and the king's own love. Also 
she that held out against such a king where was hope of 
marriage, what was like she should do to the knight, 
where his own lady and her friends were still to attend 
upon their doings, whose testimonies of the honourable 
carriage of that lady are therefore here most strong for 
her ? And for the knight, if he had enjoyed her, was he 
so far desperately wicked and a monster in love, that he 
would openly, purposely, and to his own disgrace, vaunt 
the spoil of a maid of so good friends and likelihoods of 
advancements, without all regard of God or man ? espe- 
cially when she had stood so well upon the assurance of 
her own innocence for the matter of the jewel without 
turning him to any displeasure thereby. Those that 
knew him best, knew him far from that dishonest dis- 
position chiefly in this kind, and for so gross a villany. 
And if he had been of that mind, yet was he knouii not 
of so little wit or understanding, upon a point that was 
not very likely to be known, to discover his own and her 
evil; where was a great deal more likelihood that, the 
king believing her rather than him, he was to incur a 
more certain and greater mischief, that might in all pre- 
sumption, fall by the heavy displeasure of them both 
upon himself ever after. And if we could imagine him 
both so wretchedly dishonest, and so very a sot (neither 
of which could be found of him), his father then coun- 
sellor to the king, for his wisdom, years, and experience, 

F F 



434 MEMOIR OF QUEEN 

more grave, would not, have suffered him yet to quit 
himself so fondly and to be so mad ; especially as when 
the king had showed not to beheve it, then to run more 
obstinately to offer when the king had made her privy 
hereunto, to bring her that the king should see her also 
so mad as to yield to him after she had given consent of 
marriage to the king. Who would not beheve them also 
mad, that would believe so mad a carriage of such a 
business amongst grave and wise men, howsoever the 
raihng Romanist be so mad to write it so as he would 
seem mad with reason ? For the king also, besides that 
he had more occasion and means than any other to note 
and observe her doings, yet much more (as the nature of 
generous spirits carries them) he was watchful upon the 
knight, as in other things so chiefly in this, not to be 
outrun at this garland of love ; so as by himself and by 
the eyes of others, there was not any trip but would have 
been spied, no likelihood but would have carried suspicion 
with it ; how much more would the knight's confession 
have sunk into his head ? Would he, being so wise a 
prince, have forgotten that the soberness of his choice 
would serve much for satisfying the world, touching his 
divorce ? Had he not time, had he not leisure to learn, 
to inquire and sift out all things? His care used in 
gathering opinions of universities, and in informing 
princes of the whole matter, with all circumstances in the 
managing this cause, by the space of some years, show 
he was not so passionate a lover, but also withal a wise 
and considerate prince. But it is said the king beheved 
it not ! Yet what ? when the knight (as this tale saith) 
offered to make the king see it, and that avowed to the 
council ! Could such a prmce as he swallow this ? 
Doubtless none that hath his wits will think so, none 



ANNE BOLEYN. 435 

that knew the complexion of the king could induce him- 
self to suppose a thing so incredible. The case of Sir 
Francis Brian"'s *^ opening of his love had another effect, 



6 Sir Francis Brian was one of the most accomplished courtiers 
of his times : a man of great probity and a poet. ^V'yatt addresses 
his third satire to him^, and pays a high compliment in it to his 
virtue and integrity. He was, like Wyatt, firmly attached to the 
Protestant cause : on this account he seems to have drawn on him- 
self the hatred of the Roman Catholic party. Sanders, in his ma- 
levolent account of the Reformation in England, relates the follow- 
ing absurd and wicked story of him.— Cum autem Henrici Regis 
domus ex perditissimo hominum constaret, cujusmodi erant alea- 
tores, adulteri, lenones, assentatores, perjuri, blasphemi, rapaces, 
atque adeo haeretici, inter hos insignis quidem nepos extitit, Fran- 
ciscus Brianus, Eques Auratus, ex gente et stirpe Bolenorum. Ab 
illo rex quodam tempore qusesivit, quale peccatum videretur ma- 
trem primum, deinde filium cognoscere.— Cui Brianus, " Omnino," 
inquit, " tale O rex quale gallinam primum, deinde pullum ejus 
gallinaceum comedere." Quod verbum cum rex magno risu acce- 
pisset, ad Brianum dixisse fertur. " Nas ! tu raerito meus est 
Inferni Vicarius," Brianus enim jam prius ob impietatem notis- 
simam vocabatur, " Inferni Vacarius.'' Post autem et " Regius 
Inferni Vicarius." Rex igitur cum et matrem prius, et postea 
filiam Mariam Bolenam pro concubina tenuisset, demum at alteram 
quoque filiam, Annam Bolenam, animum adjicere ccepit. De 
Schismale AngUcano, p. 24. 

This disgusting calumny is repeated by the followers of Sanders^ 
and among others by Davanzati, in his Scliisvia d'lnghilterra, p. 22, 
Ed. 1727. And yet that history is presented by the Curators of 
the Studio at Padua, to the youth educated there as " una stimabi- 
lissima Storia ; descritta con quel vivi e forti colori che soli vagliano 
a far comprendere I'atrocita del succcsso dello Schisma d'lnghil- 
terra." How (says Dr. Nott, from whom this note is taken) can 
the bonds of charity be ever brought to unite the members of the 
Roman Catholic communion with those of the reformed church, so 
long as their youth shall be thus early taught to consider our Re- 
formation as the portentous offspring of whatever Avas most odious 
in human profligacy, and most fearful in blasphemy and irreligion ?" 
Memoirs of Sir Thomas Wyatt, p. 8t. 

I- F 2 



4f36 MEMOIR OF QUEEN 

and shows plainly that the king was of another metal, 
since he cast off that Lady loved right dearly (as hath 
been said) without farther matter. And doubtless in this 
case, he believing the matter would have thrown off this 
lady also, the marriage not yet consummate, and he 
having in his own realm and abroad beauties enough to 
content him, and means enough also to push on some 
other. But it is devised the king believed it not. Not 
believing it, think we the knight could have escaped 
punishment of a slanderer, though he might by confessing, 
avoid the punishment of a malefactor (as they say) after ? 
This no outrageous madman would believe. If the king 
would or could have passed it over, the lady in honour 
could not, nor might. But suppose also that supposal 
beyond all suppose. Though they punished it not, would 
they, think ye, have put him in credit and advancement 
after ? Would they have had him chief ewerer even the 
very day of her coronation ? Would they have employed 
him ambassador in that matter of the marriage ? Yea, I 
say more ! would the king also have rewarded him with 
a good portion of lands soon upon this ? But all these 
were so as Ave have alleged them. The Chronicles have 
his service on that day of coronation. His embassages 
were twice about this matter known right well : I have 
seen the patents of the grant myself 7. And these things, 
the last especially, I the rather allege, for that the knight 
useth them himself as testimonies of the king's good 
opinion of him, in his defence before mentioned, wliich 
also by the king and his council in those times was hked 
and allowed of as his just purgation, by wliich they ac- 



32 Henry VIII. A. D. 1540. 



AXXK BOLEYX. 437 

quitted him. Finally, that his del'ence then may and is 
to be esteemed his defence now also in this case not to be 
contennied, and may thus be considered. This reporteth 
that he was twice winnowed. The matters were the 
same both times, the accusations so frivolous, the induce- 
ments and proofs so idle, that they prove nothing more 
than that there lacked no wills in his adversary to do him 
hiu-t, than that they had any least colour of matter to 
work it. Nothing so impertinent, nothing so unlikely 
that they allege not. Yea and his most trusty and best 
services they had the chief matters of their accusation, 
nothing was so fond that they ripped not up to his dis- 
credit, at the least if it might have been. Yet in all this 
was no word or signification of any such matter. Though 
it had not been brought as the ground of his accusation, 
would it not have been drawn forth to aporavate or in- 
duce the matter ? Undoubtedly it would, either in the 
queen's life in his first trouble, and it would have done 
well to revenge if he had done her this wrong, or after to 
her overthrow, or else in his second trouble against him. 
But no one word is or was in it touching any such 
matters. 

After so many cross billets of cunning polities, sur- 
mounted by the guiding providence of God, after so 
many trials of her truth, passed through by her Avise and 
virtuous governance, the king having every way made so 
thorough proof how deep root honour had taken in her 
bosom, and having found it not to be shaken even by 
him, this royal and famous prince Henry the Eighth, 
resolving her matchless perfections meet alone to be 
joined with his, now at the length concluded forthwith 
to knit up this marriage, although for certain causes the 
same was thought more convenient to be performed some- 



4S8 MEMOIIJ OF aUEEN 

what privately and secretly. On the twenty-fifth of 
January s, therefore, the ceremony was consummate. 
The king also, shortly after having himself more ascer- 
tained, and by more inward trial more assured of her 
spousal truth, would yet farther testify that his opinion 
of her, by giving her that highest honour he could give 
her virtues, in having her solemnly and royally crowned. 
And thus we see they lived and loved, tokens of in- 
creasing love perpetually increasing between them. Her 
mind brought him forth the rich treasures of love of 
piety, love of truth, love of learning. Her body yielded 
him the fruits of marriage, inestimable pledges of her 
faith and loyal love. And touching the former of these, 
it is here first not to be forgotten, that of her time (that 
is during the three years that she was queen) it is found 
by good observation, that no one suffered for religion, 
which is the more worthy to be noted for that it could 
not so be said of any time of the queens after married to 
the king. And amongst other proofs of her love to reli- 
gion to be found in others, this here of me is to be added. 
That shortly after her marriage, divers learned and 
christianly disposed persons resorting to her, presented 
her with sundry books of those controversies that then 
began to be questioned touching religion, and specially 
of the authority of the pope and his clergy, and of their 
doings against kings and states. And amongst other, 
there happened 9 one of these, which, as her manner was, 
she having read, she had also noted with her nail as of 
matter worthy the king's knowledge 1. The book lying 

8 A. D. 1532-3. 

^ Tyndal's Obedience of a Christian Man. 

* This curious and interesting occurrence, which probably had 



ANNE BOLEYN. 439 

in her window, her maid (of whom hath been spoken) 
took it up, and as she was reading it, came to speak with 



considerable effect iu furthering the progress of the Refonnation, 
is told with more circumstance by Strype, from the manuscripts of 
Fox. It is so entirely corroborated by what is here said, that I 
think it incumbent upon me to place it in juxtaposition with AV^yatt's 
narrative. 

" Upon the Lady Anne waited a young fair gentlewoman, named 
Mrs. Gainsford ; and in her service was also retained I\Ir. George 
Zouch. This gentleman, of a comely sweet person, a Zouch in- 
deed, was a suitor in the way of marriage to the said young lady : and 
among other love tricks, once he plucked from her a book in En- 
glishe, called Tyndall's Obedience, which the Lady Anne had lent 
her to read. About which time the Cardinal had given command- 
ment to the prelates, and especially to Dr. Sampson, dean of the 
king's chapel, that they should have a vigilant eye over all people 
for such books, that they came not abroad; that so as much as 
might be, they might not come to the king's reading. But this 
which he most feared fell out upon this occasion. For ]Mr. Zouch 
(I use the words of the MS.) was so ravished with the spirit of 
God speaking now as well in the heart of the reader, as first it did 
in the heart of the maker of the book, that he was never well but 
when he was reading of that book. Mrs. Gainsford wept because 
she could not get the book from her wooer, and he was as ready to 
weep to deliver it. But see the providence of God :— Mr. Zouch 
standing in the chapel before Dr. Sampson, ever reading upon this 
book ; and the dean never having his eye off the book, in the gen- 
tleman's hand, called him to him, and then snatched the book out 
of his hand, asked his name, and whose man he was. And the 
book he delivered to the cardinal. In the meantime, the Lady 
Anne asketh her woman for the book. She on her knees told all 
the circumstances. The Lady Anne showed herself not sorry nor 
angry with either of the two. But, said she, ' Well, it shall be 
the dearest book that ever the dean or cardinal took away.' The 
noblewoman goes to the king, and upon her knees she dcsireth the 
king's help for her book. Upon the king's token the book was 
restored. And now bringing the book to liim, she besought his 
grace most tenderly to read it. The king did so, and delighted in 
the book. " For (saith he) this book is for me and all kings to 



440 MEMOIR OF QUEEN 

her one 2 then suitor to her, that after married her ; and 
as they talked he took the book of her, and she withal, 
called to attend on the queen, forgot it in his hands, and 
she not returning in some long space, he walked forth 
with it in his hand, thinking it had been hers. There 
encountered him soon after a gentleman of the cardinaFs 
of his acquaintance, and after salutations, perceiving the 
book, requested to see it, and finding what it was, partly 
by the title, partly by some what he read in it, he bor- 
rowed it and showed it to the cardinal. Hereupon the 
suitor was sent for to the cardinal and examined of the 
book, and how he came by it, and had like to have come 
in trouble about it, but that it being found to have per- 
tained to one of the queen*'s chamber, the cardinal thought 
better to defer the matter till he had broken it to the 
king first, in which meantime the suitor delivered the 
lady what had fallen out, and she also to the queen, who, 
for her wisdom knowing more what might grow there- 
upon, without delay went and imparted the matter to 
the king, and showed him of the points that she had 
noted with her finger. And she was but newly come 



read." And in a little time, by the help of this virtuous lady, 
by the means aforesaid, had his eyes opened to the truth, to 
advance God's religion and glory, to abhor the pope's doctrine, his 
lies, his pomp, and pride, to deliver his subjects out of the Egyptian 
darkness, the Babylonian bonds that the pope had brought his sub- 
jects under. And so contemning the threats of all the world, the 
power of princes, rebellions of his subjects at home, and the raging 
of so many and mighty potentates abroad ; set forward a reforma- 
tion in religion, beginning with the triple crowned head at first, and 
so came down to the members, bishops, abbots, priors, and such 
\\\ie."—Strypes Ecclesiastical Memorials, vol. i. p. 1 12. 

2 Mr. George Zouch. 



ANNE BOLEYN. 441 

from the king, but the cardinal came in witli the book in 
his hands to make complaint of certain points in it that 
he knew the king would not Hke of, and withal to take 
occasion with him against those that countenanced such 
books in general, and specially women, and as might be 
thought with mind to go farther against the queen more 
directly if he had perceived the king agreeable to his 
meaning. But the king that somewhat afore distasted 
the cardinal, as we have showed^ finding the notes the 
queen had made, all turned the more to hasten his ruin, 
which was also furthered on all sides. 

On the other part, of her body she bare him a daugh- 
ter on the seventh 3 of September, to the gi-eat joy then 
of all his people, both for that the king had now issue 
legitimate of his own body, and for the hope of more 
after. The king also he expressed his joy for that fruit 
sprung of himself, and his yet more confirmed love to- 
wards her, caused her child openly and publickly to be 
proclaimed Princess Elizabeth at the solemnity of 
her baptising, preferring his younger daughter legitimate 
before the elder in unlawful wedlock. And after this 
again, at the prorogation of the parliament, the thirtieth 
of March"*, he had every lord, knight, and burgess 
sworn to an act of succession, and their names subscribed 
to a schedule fixed to the same statute, where it was 
enacted, that his daughter princess Elizabeth, he having 
none other heir male, should succeed him to the crown. 



^ So it is in the Calendars prefixed to the Book of Common 
Prayer in Queen Elizabeth's reign. Lord Herbert says it was the 
bixth, Sanders the eighth, and Archbishop Crannier the thirteonlli 
oY fourteenth. 

* AD. 1.531. 



442 MEMOIK OF QUEEN 

And after were commissioners sent to all parts of- the 
realm to take the like oath of all men and women in the 
land. Neither also were her virtues only enclosed in her 
own breast or shut up in her own person. She had pro- 
cured to her chaplains 5, men of great learning and of no 
less honest conversing, whom she with hers heard much, 
and privately she heard them willingly and gladly to 
admonish her, and them herself exhorted and encouraged 
so to do. Also at the first, she had in court drawn about 
her, to be attending on her, ladies ^ of great honour, and 
yet of greater choice for reputation of virtue, undoubted 
witnesses of her spousal integrity, whom she trained upon 
with all commendations of well ordered government, 
though yet above aU by her own example she shined 
above them all, as a torch that all might take light of, 
being itself still more bright. Those that have seen at 
Hampton Court the rich and exquisite works by herself, 



5 Shaxton and Latimer. 

^ To every one of these she gave a h'ttle book of devotions, 
neatly written on vellum, and bound in covers of solid gold 
enamelled, with a ring to each cover to hang it at their girdles for 
their constant use and meditation. 

One of these little volumes, traditionally said to have been given 
by the queen when on the scaffold to her attendant, one of the 
Wyatt family, and preserved by them through several generations, 
was described by Vertue as being seen by him in the possession of 
Mr. George Wyatt of Charterhouse Square, in 1721. Vide Wal- 
pole's Miscellaneous Antiquities, printed at Strawberry Hill, 1772, 
No. II. p. 13. It was a diminutive volume, consisting of one 
hundred and four leaves of vellum, one and seven-eighths of an 
inch long by one and five-eighths of an inch broad; containing a 
metrical version of parts of thirteen Psalms : and bound in pure 
gold richly chased, with a ring to append it to the neck-chain or 
girdle. It was in Mr. Triphook's possession in the year 1817. 



ANNE UOLEYN. 443 

for tlie greater part wrouglit by her own hand and 
needle, and also of her ladies, esteem them the most pre- 
cious furniture that are to be accounted amongst the 
most sumptuous that any prince may be possessed of. 
And yet far more rich and precious were those works in 
the sight of God which she caused her maids and those 
about her daily to work in shirts and smocks for the 
poor. But not staying here her eye of charity, her hand 
of bounty passed through the whole land ; each place 
felt that heavenly flame burning in her ; all times will 
remember it, no place leaving for vain flames, no times 
for idle thoughts. Her ordinary amounted to fifteen hun- 
dred pounds at the least, yearly, to be bestowed on the 
poor. Her provisions of stock for the poor in sundry needy 
parishes were very great. Out of her privy purse went 
not a little to like purposes. To Scholars in exhibition 
very much : so as in three qviai'ters of a year her alms 
was summed to fourteen or fifteen thousand pounds. 

She waxing great again and not so fit for dalliance, 
the time was taken to steal the king's affection from her, 
when most of all she was to have been cherished. And 
he once showing to bend from her, many that least ought 
shrank from her also, and some lent on the other side ; 
such are the flexible natures of those in courts of princes 
for the most part. Unkindness grew, and she was brought 
abed before her time with much peril of her life, and of 
a male child dead born, to her greater and most extreme 
grief. Being thus a woman full of sorrow, it was re- 
ported that the king came to her, and bewailing and 
complaining unto her the loss of his boy, some words 
were heard break out of the inward feeling of her heart's 
dolours, laying the fault upon unkindness, which the 
king more than was cause (her case at this time con- 



444 MEMOIR OF QUEEN 

sidered) took more hardly than otherwise he would if he 
had not been somewhat too much overcome with grief, or 
not so much alienate. Wise men in those days judged 
that her virtues was here her default, and that if her too 
much love could, as well as the other queen, have borne 
with his defect of love, she might have fallen into less 
danger, and in the end have tied him the more ever after 
to her when he had seen his error, and that she might 
the rather have done respecting the general liberty and 
custom of falling then that way. Certainly, from hence- 
forth the harm still more increased, and he was then 
heard to say to her : he would have no more boys by her. 
Having thus so many, so great factions at home and 
abroad set loose by the distorned favour of the king, and. 
so few to show themselves for her, what could be ? what 
was otherlike but that all these guests lighting on her at 
once should prevail to overthrow her, and with her those 
that stood under her fall ? She and her friends therefore 
were suddenly sent to the Tower: and this gracious 
queen coming unto the entry of the gate, she falling 
down upon her knees made that place a reverend temple 
to oiFer up her devout prayers, and as a bale there her 
soul beaten down with afflictions to the earth, with her 
faithful prayers bounded up to heaven. " O Lord," 
said she, " help me, as I am guiltless of this whereof I 
am accused." The time approached for the hearing of 
her cause. The place of her trial in the Tower may 
somewhat discover how the matter was liked to be han- 
dled. Nor there was it appointed the better to conceal 
the heinousness of the accusation, though that might be 
the pretence. For that was pvibKshed in parliament that 
it might from thence spread abroad over all. Her very 
accusations speak and even plead for her ; all of them. 



ANNE BOLEYN. 445 

SO far as I can find, carrying in themselves open proof 
to all men's consciences of mere matter of quarrel, and 
indeed of a very preparation to some hoped alteration. 
The most and chief of them showing to have come from 
Rome, that popish forge of cunning and treachery, as 
Petrarch long since termed it. 

i\7c?o di tradimenti in cut si cuova 
Quanta mal per lo mondo hoggi si spandi. 

Nest of treasons in which is hatch 'd and bred 
"WTiat ill this day the world doth overspread. 

For that most odious of them, something is to be 
esteemed by the apparent wa*ongs of the other evil han- 
dling of matters. But for this thing itself, partly it is 
incredible, partly by the circvnnstances impossible. In- 
credible, that she that had it her word as it were, the 
spirit of her mind, as hath been said, that she was Cccsar''s 
all, not to be touched of others, should be held with the 
foul desire of her brother. Again, she having so goodly a 
prince to please her, who also had showed himself able to 
content more than one, that she should yet be carried to 
a thing so much abhorring even womanly years and to 
nature itself, much more to so christian a queen. Im- 
possible, for the necessary and no small attendance of 
ladies ever about her, whereof some, as after appeared, 
even aspired unto her place and right in the king's love ; 
yea, by manifest prevention before their time. And in- 
deed, hereof, it was her very accusers found it impossible 
to have colour to charge her with any other than her 
brother, which also made it no less impossible even for 
him alike as other. Impossible, I say, because neither 
she could remove so great ladies, by office appointed to 
attend upon her continually, from being witnesses to her 
doings; neither for the danger she saw she stood in, and 



446 MEMOIR OF QUEEN 

the occasion daily sought, would she for her own wisdom, 
and also by the advertisements of her kindred and fol- 
lowers, whereof she had many of most great understand- 
ing, experience, and faith, about her. Besides, she could 
not but be made more wary and wakeful, if for none 
other cause, yet even to take away all colour from her 
enemies, whose eyes were everywhere upon her to pick 
matter, and their malicious hearts bent to make some 
where they found none ; as plainly enough was to be 
seen when they were driven to those straits to take oc- 
casion at her brother^s more private being with her ; the 
more grudged at perhaps, for that it might be supposed 
his conference with her might be for the breaking off the 
king''s new love. For the evidence, as I never could hear 
of any, so small I believe it was. But this I say, well 
was it said of a noble judge of late, that " half a proof 
where nature leadeth was to be esteemed a whole proof."" 
On the contrary, in this case he would have said, whole 
and very absolute proofs to have been needful in such a 
case against nature. And I may say, by their leaves, it 
seems themselves they doubted their proofs would prove 
their reproofs, when they durst not bring them to the 
proof of the light in open place. For this principal 
matter between the queen and her brother, there was 
brought forth, indeed, witness, his wicked wife accuser 
of her own husband, even to the seeking of his blood, 
which I believe is hardly to be showed of any honest 
woman ever done. But of her, the judgment that fell 
out upon her, and the just punishment by law after of 
her naughtiness, show that what she did was more to be 
rid of him than of true ground against him. And that 
it seemeth those noblemen that went upon the queen's 
life found in her trial, when it may appear plainly by 



-vxkf: bolevn. 447 

that defence of the knight tliat oft hath been here men- 
tioned, that the young nobleman the Loi'd Rochford, by 
the common opinion of men of best understanding in 
those days, was' counted and then openly spoken, con- 
demned only upon some point of a statute of words then 
in force. And this and sundry other reasons have made 
me think often that upon some clause of the same law 
they grounded their colour also against her, and that for 
other matters she had cleared herself well enough. It 
seemeth some great ones then had their hands in drawing 
in that law to entangle or bridle one another, and that 
some of them were taken in the same net, as good men 
then thought worthily. Surely my Lord Cromwell and 
this young lord were taken in those entanglements, and 
the knight himself, of whom is spoken, had hardly 
scaped it, as may appear by his defence, if he had not by 
the well delivering of the goodness of his cause broken 
through it. And this may well serve to admonish men to 
be well aware how far they admit of laws that shall touch 
life upon construction of words ; or, at the least, ad- 
mitting them, how far they leave to lawyers to interpret 
of them, and especially that thereby they give not excuse 
to juries to condemn the innocent when sway of time 
should thrust matters upon them. Thus Avas she put 
upon her trial by men of great honour ; it had been good 
also if some of them had not been to be suspected of too 
much power and no less malice. The evidence were 
heard indeed, but close enough, as enclosed in strong 
walls. Yet, to show the truth cannot by any force be 
altogether kept in hold, some belike of those honourable 
personages there, more perhaps for coimtcnance of others*' 
evil than for means by their own authority to do good 



448 MEMOIR OF QUEEN 

(which also peradventure would not have been without 
their own certain perils), did not yet forbear to deliver 
out voices that caused every where to be muttered abroad, 
that that spotless queen in her defence had cleared herself 
with a most wise and noble speech. Notwithstanding 
such a trial, such a judgment found her guilty, and gave 
sentence of death upon her at home, whom others abroad, 
living to feel her loss, found guiltless. 

The woful sentence was given ; burning or heading at 
the king's pleasure, leaving open some small place to/pity 
for the kind of death, which the king's conscience (no 
doubt) moved him to take in appointing the more honour- 
able death. Within those walls this execution was to be 
done. What needed that ? The love known indeed to 
her by the people was not to be feared of the king, her 
love being such to him as to her last breath she stood to 
acquit and defend him by her words at her death, carrying 
a very true image of her former love and life. " Chris- 
tian people !"" said she, " I am come to die, and according 
to law, and by law I am judged to death, and therefore 
I will speak nothing against it. I am come hither to ac- 
cuse no man, nor to speak any thing of that whereof I am 
accused and condemned to die. But I pray God save the 
king, and send him long to reign over you, for a gentler 
and more merciful prince was there never, and to me he 
was ever a good, a gentle, and sovereign lord. If any 
person will meddle of my cause, I require him to judge 
the best. And thus I take my leave of the world and of 
you, and I heartily desire you all to pray for me. O 
Lord, have mercy on me ! To God I commend my soul." 
And so she kneeling down said, " To Clirist I commend 
my soul. Jesu, receive my soul !"" The bloody blow 



ANNE BOLEYN. 449 

came down from liis trembling liand tliat gave it, when 
those about her could not but seem to themselves to 
have received it upon their own necks, she not so much 
as shrieking at it. God provided for lier corpse sacred 
burial, even in place as it were consecrate to inno- 
cents. 



END OF THE MEMOIR 
OF QUEEN ANNE BOLEYN. 



The following letters, relating to the arrest and behaviour in prison 
of Queen Anne Boleyn, are in themselves so interesting that no 
apology seems necessary for placing them in juxtaposition with the 
foregoing interesting memoir. They have been recently given to 
the public in Mr. Ellis's accurate and interesting collection of 
Historical Letters ; that gentleman has preferred printing them 
as mutilated fragments, to supplying the lacunae by such means as 
I have ventured to adopt. Strype saw these letters previous to 
the calamitous fire in 1731, which injured so many valuable papers 
in the Cottonian Collection, and he has given large extracts from 
them of the most interesting passages : from this source, therefore, 
I have filled up such chasms as I could, that the reader may not 
be tantalized by the , enigma-like appearance of a few disjointed 
words. The passages supplied have been carefully distinguished 
by printing them in Italics between brackets, and as Strype was a 
sufficiently accurate Antiquary, and faithful in his extracts, it is 
presumed that the reader may rely upon the authenticity of the 
passages thus supplied. 

The reader is already acquainted with the writer. Sir William 
Kingston, the Lieutenant or Constable of the Tower, from the 
figure he makes in the Life of Wolsey. See p. 369, et seq. 



LETTKUS CONCERNING AXNE BOI.KYN. 451 



LETTER I. 

Sir WtlUam Kingstoti to Secretary Cromwell^ upon. 
Queen Annoys committal to the Tower. 

[MS. COTTON. OTHO C. X. fol. 225.] 



Thys ys to advertyse you apon my Lord of Norfolk 
and the kyngs counsell depart[m^'^] from the Towre I 
went before the quene in to hyr lodgyng, & [then she"] 
sayd unto me, M. Kyngston, shall I go in to a dungyn .'' 
Now, madam, y[ow] shall go into your logyng that you 
lay in at your coronacion. It ys to gu[d^] for me, she 
sayd, Jesu, have mercy on me ; and kneled downe 
wepyng a [great\ pace, and in the same sorow fell in to 
agret lawyng, and she hathe done \so^^ mony tymes syns. 
And then she desyred me to move the kyngs hynes that 
she {jnyghf] have the sacarment in the closet by hyr 
chambr, that she my[ght pray] for mercy, for I am as 
clere from the company of man, as for s[yn, sayd she as 
/] am clere from you, and am the kyngs trew wedded 
wyf ; and then sh[e sayd] M. Kyngston, do you know 
wher for I am here, and I sayd Nay, and then [she sayd] 
when saw you the kyng? and I sayd, I saw hym not 
syas I saw [hhn in'] the Tyltc ycrde, and then INI. K. I 
pray you to tell me wher my [Lord i?oc/i]ford ys ? and 
I told hyr I saw hym afore dyncr in the cort. O [rjuhere 
ys] my sweet brod'er ? I sayd I left hym at York place, 
and so I dyd. I [hear say, say]d she, that I shuld be 
accused with iij men ; and I can say [nio more hid] nay, 
withyowt I shuld oppen ray body ; and thcr with opynd 



452 LETTERS CONCERNING 

[her gown sai/eng, iVbr]res, hast thow accused me, 
thow ar in the Towre with me, & [thou and I shal]\ dy 
to gether : and, Marke, thou art here to. O my mother, 
[thou wilt dy'\ for sorow, and meche lamented my lady 
of Worcef, for by csi[wse her child'] dyd not store in 
hyr body, and my wyf sayd what shuld [be the cawse, 
she] sayd for the sorow she toke for me : and then she 
sayd M. 'K[ingston, shall I dy] with yowt just' ; & I 
sayd, the porest sugett the kyng [hath had Justis, and] 
ther with she lawed. All thys sayings was y ester ny[^A^] 

& thys moryng dyd talke with 

mestrys Cosyl, [and said that iVo?*]res dyd say on Sunday, 
last unto the queues amn[er, that he wold sw]ere for the 
queue that she was a gud woman. [And then sayd Mrs.] 
Cosyn, Madam, why shuld ther be hony seche maters 
[spoken of 9 Mary,] sayd she, I bad hym do so, for I 
asked hym why he [went nat thorough with] hys ma- 
ryage ? and he made ansur he wold tary [a time. Then 
said she^ you] loke for ded mens showys ; for yf owth 
cam[e to the ¥ing hut good,] you wold loke to have me ; 
and he sayd, yf he [should have ony soche thought,] he 
wold hys hed war of; and then she sayd, [she could 
undo him if she wold,] and ther with thay fell yowt. Bot 
[she said, she more feared Weston ; for] on Wysson 

Twjsday 

Monday last [Weston told he]r that Nores cam more 
u[nto her chdwmhre for her then for M] age 2, and further 

. . . Wher I was commaunded to 

charge the gentlewemen that y gyf thaye atende apon 
the quene, that ys to say, thay shuld have now com- 



Cosy : this woman's name was Cousyns. 
Probably the name of one of her attendants. 



AKNE UOLEYN. 455 

mynycaseon with hyr, in lese^ my wyf ware present, and 
so I dyd hit, notwithstaundyng it canot be ; for my lady 
Bolen and mestrys Cosyn lyes on the quenes palet, and I 
and my wyf at the dore with yowt, so at^ thay most 
nedes talke at* be without ; bot I have every thyng told 
me by mestrys Cosyn that she thynks met for mee to 
knowe, and tother ij gentlewemen lyes with yowt me, 
and as I may knowe [the'] kings plesur in the premysses 

I shall folow. From the Towre this mo 

S^ syns the makyng of thys letter the quene spake of 
West[o7i^ that sJie] had spoke to hym by cause he dyd 
love hyr kynswoma[M 3I?s. Skelton and that 5]he sayd 
he loved not hys wyf; and he made anser to hyr [again 
that he\ loved won in hyr howse bettr then them bothe[; 
she asked htm who is thatf to .vthich he answered] that 
it ys your self; and then she defyed hym. 

WILLM K Y NG[ A' TON. ] 



LETTER II. 

Sir William Kyngston to Secretary Cromwell, on Queen 
Anne's behaviour in Prison. 

[MS. COTTON. OTHO C. X. fol. 222.] 



Aftkr your departyng yesterday, Greneway gentilman 
ysshar cam to me, & . . . M. Caro and Masf Bryan 
commanded hym in the kyngs name to my [hard of] 

^ unless. ' that. ' .Sir Francis Weston. 



454 LETTEKS CONCERNING 

Rotchfort from my lady hys wyf, and the message was 

now more se how he dyd ; and also she 

wold humly sut unto the kyngs hy[7ig*] .... for 
hyr husband ; and so he gaf hyr thanks, and desyred me 
to know [at what] tyme he shuld cum afFore the kyngs 
counsell, for I thynk I s\haU not'] cum forthe tyll I cum 

to my jogement, wepyng very 

I departed from hym, and when I cam to the chambr 
the [quene heard] of me and sent for me, and sayde I 
here say my lord my [brother is] here; it ys trowth, 
sayd I ; I am very glad, said sh[e that we] bothe be so 
ny together; and I showed hyr here wase .... 
Weston and Brerton, and she made very gud countenans 
. . . . I also sayd, M. Page and Wyet wase mo, 
then she sayd he ha .... on hys fyst tother day 

and ye here now bot ma I shall de- 

syre you to bayre a letter from me [to Master] Secretory ; 
and then I sayd, madam, tell it me by [word of mouth 
Sf I] will do it, and so gaf me thanks saying, I ha[t;e 
moche marvell] that the kyng"'s counsell comes not to me ; 
and thys [same day she] sayd we shuld have now rayne 
tyll she ware [delivered owt] of the Towre. I pray you 
it may be shortly by [cawse of the] fayre wether. You 
know what I mayne. The quen[g sayd this] nyght that 
the kyng wyst what he dyd wh[«7i he put soche] ij abowt 
hyr as my lady Boleyn and Mestres [Cosyns, Jbr] thay 
cowd tell hyr now thyng of my [lord her father nor] 
nothyng ellys, bot she defyed them all. B[o^ wpmi this 
my lady Bolen] sayd to hyr, seche desyre as you heve 
\\&[d to soche tales] base browthe you to thys. And then 
sayd [Mrs. Stmier, Marhe] ys the worst cheryssht of 
heny m[an in the howse,for he] wayres yernes, she sayd 
that was [becaws he was iw] gentleman. Bot he wase 



ANNE BOLEVK. '455 

never in m[i/ chamb' but at Jfinchestr, a7i(l] ther she 
sent for hym to ple[^ on the virginals, for there my\ 
logyng was \above the hings\ 

fori 

never spake with hym syns, hot apon Saterclay before 
May day, and then I fond hym standyng in the ronde 
wyndo in my chambr of presens, and I asked why he 
wase so sad, and he ansui'ed and sayd it was now mater, 
and then she sayd, you may not loke to have me speke 
to you as I shuld do to anobull man, by cause you be 
aninferer persson. No, no, madam, aloke sufficed me ; 
and thus far you well . . [.y]he hathe asked my wyf 
whether heny body maks thayr bed .... [w]y 
wyf ansured and sayd, nay, I warant you, then she say 

y myght make baletts Well now 

bot ther ys non bet d that can 

do it, yese sayd my wyf master Wyett by . . • 

sayed trew. 

.... my lord my brod'' will dy."v 

.... ne I am sur thys was as VwiLLM KVNGSTON. 

. . . tt downe to den"^ thys day.^ 



thys day at diner I sent M. Nores hys 

diner & sent hym a knave to 

hys prest that wayted apon hym withe 

t unto hym, and he ansured hym agayn 

. . : ny thyng of my 

confession he ys worthye to have 

hyt I defy hym ; and also he de-syreth to hav . 

[Aft]lf anowre yf it may be the kyngs 

plesur 



456 LETTEllS CONCERNING 



LETTER III. 

Sir William Kyngston to Secretary Cromwell^ with further 
details of the Queen's conduct. 

[MS. COTTON. OTHO C. X. fol. 224 b.] 



The quene hathe meche desyred to have here in the 
closet the sacarments, & also hyr amner who she sup- 
poseth to be Devet ; for won owre she ys determyned 
to dy, and the next owre meche contrary to that. Yester- 
day after your departyng I sent for my wyf, & also for 
mestrys Cossyn to know how the^ had done that day, 
they sayd she had bene very mery and made agret dyner, 
and yet sone after she called for hyr supper, havyng 
marvell wher I was all day ; and after supper she sent 
for me, and at my commyng she sayd, " Wher have you 
bene all day," and I mad ansure I had bene with pry soners, 
" so," she sayd, " I thowth I hard M. Tresur[gr,"] I 
ansured he was not here ; then she be gan talke and sayd 
I was creuely handeled .... a Greweche with 
the kyngs counsell with my lord of Norfolke that he 
sayd, [ Tut, tut, tut,'\ and shakyng liys lied iij or iiij 
tymes, and as for Master Tresurer he was in the [Forest 
of Windsor.'] You know what she meynes by that, and 
named M"". Controler to be avery [gentleman] .... 
. she to be a quene and crevely handeled as was never 



they. 



ANNE BULKY X. 457 

seiie ; bot I [think the king] dose it to prove mc, and 
dyd lawth with all and was very mery, and th[cn she 
said I shall have just]ists ; and then I sayde have now 
dowt ther[iw] ; then she sayd yf hony man. [accuse me 
I can say hot w]ay, & thay can bring now wytnes, and 

she had talked with the gente]l[rtrwie??] 

. sayd I knew at Marks commyng to the Towi'e that 

nyght I reysayved at it was x. of the 

cloke or he ware well loged, and then she sayd . . . 
. knew of Nores goyng to the Towre, and then she 

sayd I had next yf it had bene leyd 

she had Avone, and then she sayd I w[oZcZ God I had ?«]y 
bysshoppys for thay wold all go to the kyng for me, for 
I \hj\nke the most part of] Yngland prays for me, and 
yf I dy you shall se the grette[5^ punishment for m\Q 
withyn thys vij yere that ever cam to Yngland, & then 
sh[(? sayd I shal he in heaven, Jhr] I have done mony 
gud dedys in my days, bot zit I thynke [moche on- 
hind/nes yn the] kyng to put seche abowt me as I never 
loved : I showed \]ier that the king toke theym] to be 
honest and gud wemen, bot I wold have had [of myn 
owne prevy chambre^ weche I favor most &c. 

WILLM KYNGST[OiV.] 
To Masf Seretory. 



458 LETTERS CONCEENING 



LETTER IV. 



Edward Baynton to the Treasurer : declaring that only 
one person, named Mark, will corifess any thing- against 
Queen Anne, 

[ms. cotton, otho c. X. fol. 209. b.] 



M^ Theasurer, 
This shalbe to advertyse yow that here is myche com- 
munycacion that noman will confesse any thyiig agaynst 
her, but allonly Marke of any actuell thynge. Wherfore 
(in my folishe conceyte) it shulde myche toche the kings 
hono"^ if it shulde no farther appeere. And I cannot 
beleve but that the other two bee as i\idly'\ culpapuU as 
ever was hee. And I thynke a&^m:\edly'] the on kepith 
the others councell. As many .... conjectures 
in my mynde causeth me to thynk . . . specially 
of the communycacion that was last bet[!:(yme] the quene 
and Master Norres. M^ Aumener [^oZc?^] me as I wolde 
I myght speke with M'' '^\ecretorie~\ and yow together 
more playnely expresse my . . . yf case be that 
they have confessyd hke wret ... all thyngs as 

they shulde do than my n at apoynte. 

I have mewsed myche at of mastres 

Margery whiche hath used her .... strangely 
toward me of late, being her ixy\nde'\ as I have ben. 
But no dowte it cann[o^ he'\ but that she must be of 
councell therewith, [there] hath ben great fryndeship be- 
twene the q[ene and'l her of late. I here farther that the 
que[M^] standith styfly in her opynyon that she wo . . 
. . whiche I thynke is in the trust that she . 



AXXE BOLEYN. 459 

ther two. But if yo^ busynes be suche . . 
. not com, I wolde gladly com and wayte . 
ke it requysyte. From Grenewy[c/i6'] 
. . . . mornyng. 

ED\V^ARD 



LETTER V. 

Sir William Kyngston to Secretary Cromwell, May 16'/' 
1536, tipo)i the ^^reparations Jbr the cxecutian of my 
Lord Rochford and Queen Anne. 

[hahl. MS. 283. fol. 134. Orig.] 



Sir, 
Thys day I was with the kyng's grace and declared the 
petysyons of my Lord of Rochford, wherin I was an- 
sAvred. Sir, the sayd lord meche desyreth to speke with 
you, weche towchet hys consyens meche as he sayth, 
wherin I pray you I may know your plesur, for by cause 
of my promysse made unto my sayd lord to do the same, 
and also I shall desyre you further to know the kyngs 
plesur towchyng the quene, as well for her comfyt as for 
the preparacion of skefolds and bother necessarys con- 
scrnyng. The kyng's grace showed me that my lord of 
Cantorbury shuld be hyr confessar, and was here thys 
day with the quene ; & not 7 in that mater, sir, the tyme 



460 LETTERS CONCERNING 

ys short, for the kyng supposeth the gentelmen to dy to 
morow, and my lord of Rocheford with the reysydew of 
gentelmen, k as zit with yowt [confession] weche I loke 
for, bot I have told my lord of Rocheford that he be in 
aredynes to morow to sufFur execusyon, and so he ac- 
cepse s it very well, and will do his best to be redy, Not- 
withstandyng he wold have reysayved hys ryghts, weche 
hathe not bene used and in especiall here. Sir, I shall 
desyre you at 9 we here may know the kyngs plesur here 
as shortly as may be, at ^ we here may prepayre for the 
same weche l ys necessary, for the same we here have 
now may for to do execusyon. Sir, I pray you have gud 
rymembrance in all thys for hus^ to do, for we shalbe 
redy al ways to our knowlage. Zit thys day at dyner 
the queue sayd at^ she shuld go to Anvures^ & ys in 
hope of lyf, and thus far you well. 

WILLM KYNGSTON. 



LETTER VI. 



Sir William Kingston to Lord Cromwell, apparently 
May 18^'' 1536. 

[ms. cotton, otho c. X. fol. 223.] 



Syr, 
Thys shalbe to advertyse you I have resayved your letf^ 
wherin yo[M wolde'] have strangerys conveyed yowt of 



accepts. 9 that. • i. e. what. ^ us. 

3 Anvers, Antwerp. 



ANNE BOLEYN. 461 

the Towre and so thay be by the [meanis'\ of Richard 
Gressum, & Will-m Loke, & Wythepoll, bot the nmbr 4 
of stra[ngcrs past] not xxx. and not mony ; Hothe and 
the inbassif^ of the emperor had a [servaunt] ther and 
honestly put yowt. S'' yf we have not an owre ^ serten 
[as it may] be knowen in London, I thynke hc[7-c] wilbe 
bot few and I thynk [a resonable] humbur ^ ware bes : 
for I suppose she Avyll declare hyr self to h[e a good] 
woman for all men bot for the kyng at the o'' of hyr 
de[th. For thys] mornyng she sent for me that I myght 
be with hyr at [soclie tyme] asshe reysay ved the gud lord 
to the in tent I shuld here hy[r speJiJe as] towchyng her 
innosensy alway to be clere. & in the writy['^i^* of this] 
she sent for me, and at my commyng she sayd, M. Kyng- 
ston, I he[ar saye I shall] not dy aiFore none, & I am 
very sory ther fore ; for I thowth [than to] be dede [a7i]d 
past my payne. I told hyr it shuld be now payne it w[as 
so sottell. And then she said I] hard say the execufi was 
very gud, and I have a \y\ttle necke, and put he]Y hand 
abowt it lawyng hartely. 

I have sen[g mony men Sf] also wemen executed and at 
they have bene in gre[te sorrowe, and to my l:no%ole]ge 
thys lady hathe meche joye and plesur in dethe. [Sir., 
hyr Amner is co^^i^ijnewally with hyr, and basse byne 
syns ij of the c\o[cke after midnight. This is] the effect 
of hony thyng that ys here at [thys tyme, and thus fare 
yow] well. , 

Your 

WILLM KYNG[.S'rOJV.] 



number. • an hour. ^ niiinbor. 



462 ORIGINAL LETTERS. 



LETTER VII. 

From the Earl of NortJmtnbei'land, addressed " To his 
beloved Cosyn Thomas Arundel, one qf the Gentlemen 
of my Lord Legates prevy chamhreT It was written 
soon after the death qf the EarVs father, in 1527- 
Referred to at p. 339 of Wolsey's life. 

[from the archives of the duke of NORTHUMBERLAND.] 



Bedfellow, after my most harte recommendacion : 
Thys Monday the iijd off August I resevyd by my ser- 
vaunt, Letters from yow beryng datt the xx* day off 
July, deliveryd unto hym the sayme day at the kyngs 
town of Neweastell ; wher in I do perseayff my lord Car- 
denalls pleasour ys to have such boks as was in the 
Chapell of my lat lord and ffayther (wos soil Jh\i 
pardon). To the accomplyshment of which at your 
desyer I am confformable, notwithstanding I trust to be 
able ons to set up a chapel off myne owne. But I pray 
God he may look better upon me than he doth. 
But me thynk I have lost very moch, ponderyng yt ys 
no better regardyd ; the occasion wher off he shall 
persayff. 

Fyrst, the long lyeng of my tressorer 7, with hys very 
hasty and unkynd words unto hym, not on my parte 
deserved. 



7 That is his long continuance with the cardinal. 



ORTGTNAL LETTERS. 4G3 

Also the news off Mr. Manyng, the which ys bloii 
obroud over all Yorksher ; that neyther by the kyng «, 
nor by my lord cardenall am I regardyd; And that 
he wyll tell me at my metyng with hym, when I 
come unto Yorksher ; which shall be within thys 
month, God wyllyng : but I fFer ^ my words to M"^ 
Manyng shall displeas my lord; for I will be no 
ward. 

Also, bedfellow, the payns I tayk and have taykyn 
sens my comyng hether, are not better regardyd; 
but by a fflatteryng Byshope of Carel ^ and that fals 
Worm 2 shall be broth ^ to the messery and carfFul- 
ness that I am in; and in such slanders, that now 
and my lord cardenal wold, he cannot bryng me howth ^ 
thereof. 

***** 

I shall with all sped send up your lettrs with the 
books unto my lord's grace, as to say iiij AntefFonars ^, 
such as I thynk were not seen a gret wyll ; v Grails ; an 
Ordeorly ; a Manuall ; viij'*" ProfFessioners, And ffbr all 
the ressidew, they not worth the sending, nor ever was oc- 
cupyd in my lords chapel. And also I shall wry t at thys 
time as ye have wylled me. 

^ He had probably disobliged the king by his attachment to Anne 
Boleyn. 

9 fear. ' Carlisle. 

■^ "William Worm, whom he mentions in a former letter, as the 
person who betrayed him. 

3 brought. ■• out. 

Antiphonars, Grails, Ordcrlys, Manuals, and Professionarics, 
are books containing different portions of the Roman Catholic 
Ritual. See Percy's Northumberland Household Book, p. 44.6, 
and Burn's Ecclesiastical Law. 



464 



OUIGINAL LETTERS. 



Yff my lord's grace wyll be so good Lord unto me, 
as to gyf me lycliens 6 to put Wyll™ Worme within a 
castell of myn off Anwyk in assurty, unto the tyme 
he have accomptyd ffor more money rec? than ever 
I rec*} , I shall gyff hys grace ij C' and a benefiss off 
a C. worth unto hys colleyg, with such other thyngs 
resserved as his [grace] shall desyre ; but unto such 
tyme as myne Awdytors hayth takyn accompt off him : 
wher in good bedfellow do your best, ffor els he shall 
put us to send myselff, as at owr metyng I shall show 
yow. 

And also gyff secuer credens unto this berer, whom 
I assur yow I have ffonddon a marvellous honest man, as 
ever I ffownd in my lyff. In hast at my monestary of 
Hul Park the iij4 day of August. In the owne hand 
off 

Yours ever assured, 

H. NORTHUMBERLAND. 
To my bedfellow Arundel. 



LETTER VIII. 

The Earl of Northumberland to Cromwell, denying any 
contract or promise of marriage between Anne Bullen 
and himself. 

[original, cott. lib. otho c. 10.] 

M^ Secretary, This shall be to signifie unto you that 
I perceive by Sir Raynold Carnaby, that there is sup- 

^ licence. There is a tradition at Alnwick that an auditor was 
formerly confined in the dungeon under one of the towers till he 
could make up his accounts to his lord's satisfaction. 



OP.U;iKAr, I.KTTF.KS. 465 

posed a precontract between the (jueen and nie ; whi-rupon 
I was not only heretofore examined upon my oath before 
the Archbishopps of Canterbury and York, but also re- 
ceived the blessed sacrament upon the same before the 
Duke of Norfolk, and other the king"'s highnes"* council 
learned in the spiritual law ; assuring you M"^ Secretary, 
by the said oath, and blessed body which afFore I received, 
and hereafter intend to receive, that the same may be 
to my damnation, if ever there v.'ere any contracte or 
promise of marriage between her and me. At New- 
ington Green, the xiijth day of Maye, in the SS'** year 
of the reigne of our soveraigne lord King Henry the 
VITI'^ 

Your assured, 

NORTHUMBERLAND. 



LETTER IX. 

Queen Catherine of Arragon and King Henry VIII"^ to 
Cardinal Wolsey^ a joint letter, 1527. 

[ms- cotton, vitell. b. xn. fol. 4.] 

Mr. Ellis has printed this letter in its mutilated condition ; I have 
ventured to supply the laainw from the copy in Burnet's History 
of the Reformation, vol. i. p. 5,5. Burnet obtained his transcript 
when it was in a perfect state, but has unaccountably attributed 
the first part of the letter to Anne Boleyn. It is however said 
by Mr. Ellis to be in the hand-writing of Catherine, and cannot 
but be considered very interesting. 



My Loud, in my moste hund)lyst wys that my hart can 
thinke [I desire yon to pardon] me that I am ho bold to 



466 OIIIGINAL LETTERS. 

troubyl yow with my sympyl [Sj- rude wryteng, estemyng\ 
yt to prosed from her that is muche desirus to kno[z£;e 
that youer grace does wellJl I paersave be this berar 
that you do ; the wiche I Ypraye God long to C07itinewe,'\ 
as I am moste bonde to pray, for I do know the g[reate 
paines and trowhles that^ you have taken for me bothe 
day and nyght \is never like to he recompensyd on] my 
part, but allonly in loveng you next on to the \limges 
grace above air\ creatures leveng ; and I do not dought 
but the \dayly proffes ofmydeades] shall manefestly declaer 
and aferme my wryte[w^ to he trewe^ and I do] truste 
you do thynke the same. My lord, I do assure you I do 
long to heare from you som newes of the legat, for I do 
hope and \they come from you they] shall be very good, 
and I am seur that you deseyre \it as moche as /] and 
more, and ytt waer possibel as I knowe ytt ys not : And 
thus remaineing in a stedfast hope I make anend of my 
letter, [writtyn with the hande] of her that is moste 
bounde to be 

Ctf" Here Queen Catherine's part ends, the rest is in the hand-writing 
of Henry the Eighth. 

The wrytter of thys letter wolde not cease tyll she had 
[caused me likewise] to set to my hand desyryng yow 
thovvgh it be short to X\ake it in good part.] I ensure 
yow ther is nother of us but that grettly desyry[^A to see 
you, and] muche more rejoyse to heare that you have 
scapyd thys plage \so well, trustyng] the fury thereof to 
be passyd, specially with them that \i[epyth good diett] 
as I trust you doo. The not heryng of the legates 
ary wall [i7i Franse causeth] us sumwhat to muse ; nott- 
withstandyng we trust by your dily[^^?^* and vigilancy] 



ORIGINAL LETTERS. 4()7 

(with the assystence of Almyghty God) shortly to be 
easyd owght \of that trouble.] No more to yow at thys 
tyme but that I pray God send yow [as good healtlt] and 
prosperity as the wryters wolde. 

By your lovyng ?,o[ycraign S^frendc] 

HENR[r R.\ 



LETTER X. 

Anne Boleyn to Cardinal Wolsey. 
[fiddes' collections, p. 256.] 



My Lord, after my most humble recommendations this 
shall be to gyve unto your grace as I am most bownd my 
humble thanks for the gret payn & travelle that your 
grace doth take in steudyeng by your wysdome and gret 
dylygens how to bryng to pas honerably the gretyst welth 
that is possyble to come to any creator lyving, and in 
especyall remembryng howe wretchyd and unworthy I 
am in comparyng to his hyghnes. And for you I do know 
my selfe never to have deservyd by my desertys that you 
shuld take this gret payn for me, yet dayly of your good- 
nes I do perceyve by all my frends, and though that I 
had nott knowlege by them the dayly proffe of your deds 
doth declare your words and wrytyng toward me to be 
trewe ; nowe good my Lord your dyscressyon may con- 
syder as yet how lytle it is in my power to recompence 
you but all onely wyth my good wyl, the whiche I as- 
sewer you that after this matter is brought to pas you shall 
fynd me as I am : bownde in the mean tym to owe you 
my servyse, and then looke what a thyng in tliys woreld 

H II 9. 



468 



ORIGINAL LETTERS. 



I can imraagen to do you pleasor in, you shall fynd me 
the gladyst woman in the woreld to do yt, and next 
unto the kyngs grace of one thyng I make you full 
promes to be assewryd to have yt and that is my 
harty love unfaynydly deweryng my lyf, and beying 
fully determynd with Godds grace never to change 
thys porpos, I make an end of thys my reude and 
trewe meanyd letter, praying ower Lord to send you 
moche increase of honer with long lyfe. Wrytten 
with the hand of her that besechys your grace to ex- 
cept this letter as prosydyng from one that is most bownde 
to be 

Your humble and 

obedient servante, 



ANNE BOLEYN. 



LETTER XI. 

Anne Boleyn to Cardinal Wolsey. 

FROM riDBES' COLLECTIONS, p. 255. 

Collated with the Original in the Cottonian Collection. Brit. Mus. Otho 
c. X. fol, 218. 



My Lord, in my most humblyst wyse that my powuer 
hart can thynke I do thanke your grace for your kind 
letter, and for youer rych and goodly present, the whyche 
I shall never be able to desarve wyth owt your gret helpe, 
of the whyche I have hetherto hade so grete plente that 
all the dayes of my lyfe I ame moaste bownd of all 
creators next the kyngs grace to love and serve your grace, 
of the whyche I besyche you never to dowte that ever I 
shalle vary frome this thought as long as ony brethe is in 



OKIGINAL LETTKKS. 469 

my body. And as tochyng your grace's troble with the 
swet I thanke ower Lord that them that I desyerd and 
prayed for ar scapyd, and that is t)ie kyng and you. Not 
doughthyng bot that God has prcserv-yd you bothe for 
grete cawsys knowen allonly to his hygh wysdome. And 
as for the commyng of the legate I desyer that moche ; and 
yf it be Goddis pleasor I pray him to send this matter 
shortly to a good ende ; and then I trust my lord to re- 
compense part of your grete panys, the whych I must re- 
quyer you in the meane tyme to excepte my good \vyll in 
the stede of the power, the whyche must prosede partly 
from you as ower Lourd knoweth to whome I be syche 
to sende you longe lyfe with continewance in honor. 
Wrytten wyth the liande of her that is most bound to 
be 

Your humble and 

obedyent servante, 

ANNE BOLEVN. 



LETTER XII. 

Cardinal Wolsey in his Distress to Thomas CronnocU. 

MS. COTTON. VESP. F. XIII. fol. 7f». 

Frtrm Fiddcs' CoUectioii.i, p. 256. Collaicd with the Original. 



MyN OWNE ENTEllLY BELOVYD CrOMWELL, 

I BESECHE you as ye love me and wyl evyr do any thyng 
for me, reparc hyther thys day as sone as the parlement 
ys brokyn up, Icyng a})arte all thyngs for that tyme ; for 
I wold nat onely com my ny cat thyngs imto yow wherin 
for my comfort & relief I wold have your good sad. 



470 OKIfilNAL LETTERS. 

dyscret advyse & counsell, but also opon the same com- 
mytt sertyng thyngs requyryng expedicion to yow, on 
my behalf to be solycytyd : this I pray you therfor, to 
hast your commyng hyther assafore, with owt omyttyng 
so to do, as ye tendyr my socor, reliif & comfort, 
and quyetnes of mynde. And thus fare ye well: 
from Asher, in hast, thys Satyrday in the mornyng, 
with the rude hande & sorrowful hert of your assuryd 
lover 



I have also serteyn thyngs consernyng yowr sylf wych 
I am suere ye wolbe glad to here & knowe : fayle not 
therfore to be here thys nygth, ye may retome early in 
the mornyng ageyn yf nede shul so requyre. Et iterum 
vale. 

Mr. Augusteyn7 shewyd me how ye had wryttyn onto 
me a lettre wherin ye shuld adv'^tyse of the comyng hyther 
of the Duke of Norfolke : I assure you ther cam to my 
hands no suche lettre. 



7 Dr. Augustine, or Agostino, a native of Venice, was physician 
to the cardinal, and was arrested at Cawood at the same time with 
his master, being treated with the utmost indignity : v. Life, pp. 
348, 351. In the Cottonian MS. Titus b. i. foL 365, there is a 
letter of his to Thomas Cromwell, in Italian, requiring speedy 
medical assistance, apparently for Cardinal Wolsey. It is dated 
Asher, Jan. 19th, 1529-30. Cavendish describes him as being 
dressed in a " boistous gown of black velvet ;" with which he 
overthrew one of the silver crosses, which broke Bonner's head in 
its fall. 



ORIGINAL LETIERS. 471 



LETTER XIII. 

From Wolscy to Dr. Stephen Gardener, Secretary of State. 

Communicated to Mr. Grove by Mr. Littleton, afterwards Lord 
Littleton, who possessed the original. It is now in the Ashmole 
Museum at Oxford. 



My oavne goode Mastyr Secretary, 
GoYNG this day out of my pue to sey masse, your lettres 
datyd yesternygth at London Aver delyveryd unto me; 
by the contynue wherof I undyrstand, that the kyng\s 
hyhnes, of hys excellent goodnes & cheryte ys contentyd, 
that I shall injoy & have the admynystracion of Yorke 
merly, with the gyftts of the promocyons spiritual & tem- 
porall of the same, reservyd onely onto his nobyll grace 
the gyft of V or vj of the best promocions. And that hys 
pleasure ys, I shal leve Wynchester & Saynt Albons. As 
hereonto Mr. Secretary, I can nat expresse howe moche 
I am bowndyn to the kyng"'s royal majeste for thys hys 
gret & bowntawse hberalyte, reputyng the same to be 
moche more then I shal ever be abyl to deserve. How- 
beyt yf hys majeste, consyderyng the short & lyttyl tyme 
that I shal lyve here in thys world, by the reason of such 
hevynes as I have conceyved in my hert, with the 
ruinyuose of the olde howsys & the decay of the said 
archbyshopryck at the best to the sum of viii C Marcke 
yearly, by the reason of the act passyd for Fynys 
of Testaments, wth also myn long paynful servys 
and poore degre ; and for the declaration of hys grace's 
excellent cheryte, yf hys hyhnes be myndyd I shal leve 
Wynchester & Saynt Albon's, wych I supposyd, when I 



472 ORIGINAL LETTERS. 

maid my submyssyon, not ofFendying in my trewth to- 
wards liys royal parson, dygnyte, or majeste royal, I 
should not now have desyrvyd to have left ; and much 
the more knoAvyng his grace's excellent propensyon to 
pyte & mercy, & rememberyng the francke departyng 
with of all that I had in thys world, that I may have 
summe convenyent pension reservyd unto me, suche as 
the kyng's hyhnes of hys nobyll charite shal thynke mete, 
so orderyng his that shal succede and my lyvyng, that 
the same may be of lyck valew yeerly and exstent. 
Whereat my trust ys, and my herte so gevyth me, that 
hys majeste wold make no dyfFyculte, yf yt may lycke 
yow friendly to propone the same, assuryng yow that I 
desyre not thys for any mynde (God ys my judge), that 
I have to accumulate good, or desyre that I have to the 
muke of world ; for, God be thankyd, at thys ower I set 
no more by the ryches & promocyons of the world, then 
by the roshe undyr my fote ; but onely for the declara^ 
tion of the kyng's favor & hyhe chery te, & to have where- 
with to do good dedys, & to helpe my poore servants and 
kynnysfolks. And furthermore that yt wold please the 
kyng's excellent goodnes by your freindly medyacion, 
consyderyng how slendyrly I am furnyshyed in my howse, 
nowe specially that the apparell of Wynchester and 
Saynt Albons shal be takyn from me, to geve and appoynt 
unto me a convenyent fernyture for the same, non ad 
'pompam, sed necessariam honestatem. And yf I may 
have the free gyft and dysposycion of the benefyces, y t 
shalbe gretly to my comfort. And yet when any of the 
V or vi pryncypall shal fortune to be voyd, the kyng's 
grace being myndyd to have any of them, hys hyhnes 
shalbe as sure of the same, as though they wer reservyd. 
And thus by his nobyl & mercyful goodnes delyvered 



ORIGINAL LKTTERS. 473 

owt of extreme calamite, & restoryd to a newe fredome, I 
shal, with God's mercy & help, so ordyr my lyfF, that I 
trust hys majeste shal take special comfort therin, & be 
pi easy d with the same : Spero quod hoc, (jucc peto, non 
videbitur magna. Howbeyt I most humbly submyt and 
referre all my petytions, immo ipsam v'ltain, to his gra^ 
cyous ordynance & pleasure, praying yow to declare & 
sygnify the same, supplying myn indysposycion & lacke 
of wyt, conceyvyd by reason of my extreme sorowe & 
hevynes, that the same may be to the kyng''s contenta- 
cion, wherin I had lever be ded then to offende in word, 
thowght, or dede, and as towching the grantyng of the 
fee of one c li. for Mr. Nores duryng hys lyfF for hys 
good servys done unto the kyng'^s hyhnes, for the wych I 
have always lovyd him, and for the singuler good hert 
and mynde, that I knowe he hath alweys borne unto me, 
I am content to make out my grawnte upon the same, ye 
& it wol please the kyng to inlarge it one c. li. more ; and 
semblably cause Mr. Thesauror hath the kepyng of the 
kyng's game nygh to Fernam, I wold gladly, if it may 
stand w ith the kyng''s pleasure, grawnte unto hym the re- 
version of such thinges as the Lord Sands hath there, with 
the ampliacon of the fee above that wych is oldely accus- 
tomyd, to the sum of xl. H. by the yeere ; & also I wold 
gladly geve to Mr. Comptroller a lycke fee, & to Mr. 
Russel, another of xx. h. by the yeere. Remy ttyng thys 
and all other my sutes to the kyng's hyhnes pleasure, 
mercy, pity, & compassion, moste holly. Bescechyng 
hys Hyhnes so nowe gracyously to ordyr me, that I may 
from hensforth serve God quietly & with repose of mynd, 
& pray as I am most bowndyn, for the conservacyon & 
increase of his most nobyll and royal astate. And 



474 ORIGINAL LETTERS. 

thus with my dayly prayer I byd yow farewell. From 
Asher hastely with the rude hand and moste hevy herte 
of 

Yowr assuryd frende & bedysman, 



LETTER XIV. 

Cardinal Wolsey to Dr. Stephen Gardener. 

This Letter was also communicated to Mr. Grove by Mr. Littleton. 
It is now in the Ashmole Museum at Oxford. 



MY OWNE GOODE MASTYR SECRETARY, 

Aftyr my moste herty commendacions I pray yow at 
the reverens of God to helpe, that expedicion be usyd in 
my persuts, the delay wherof so replenyshyth my herte 
with hevynes, that I can take no reste ; nat for any vayne 
fere, but onely for the miserable condycion, that I am 
presently yn, and lyclyhod to contynue yn the same, 
onles that yow, in whom ys myn assuryd truste, do help 
& releve me therin ; For fyrst, contynuyng here in this 
mowest & corrupt ayer, beyng enteryd into the passyon 
of the dropsy. Cum prostatione appetkus et continuo in- 
somnio. I cannat ly ve : Wherfor of necessy te I must be 
removyd to some other dryer ayer and place, where I may 
have comodyte of physycyans. Secondly, havyng but 
Yorke, wych is now decayd, by viii C. li. by the yeere, 
I cannot tell how to lyve, & kepe the poore nombyr of 
folks wych I nowe have, my howsys ther be in decay, and 
of evry thyng mete for howssold onprovydyd and fur- 



ORIGINAL LETTERS. 475 

nyshyd. I have non apparell for my howsys ther, nor 
money to bring me thether, nor to lyve wyth tyl the 
propysse tyme of the yeere shall come to remove thether. 
Thes tliyngs consyderyd, Mr. Secretary, must nedys 
make me yn agony and hevynes, myn age therwith & 
sycknes consyderyd, alas Mr. Secretary, ye with other my 
lordys shewyd me, that I shuld otherwyse be fiu'nyshyd 
& seyn unto, ye knowe in your lernyng & consyens, whe- 
ther I shuld forfet my spiritualties of Wjmchester or no. 
Alas ! the qualytes of myn offencys consyderyd, with the 
gret punishment & losse of goodes that I have sustaynyd, 
owt to move petyfull hertys ; and the moste nobyl kyng, 
to whom yf yt wold please yow of your cherytable good- 
nes to shewe the premyses aftyr your accustomable wys- 
dome & dexteryte, yt ys not to be dowbtyd, but his 
highnes wold have consyderacyon & compassyon, agg- 
mentyng my ly vyng, & appoyntyng such thyngs as shuld 
be convenient for my furniture, wych to do shalbe to the 
k3mg"'s high honor, meryte, & dyscharge of consyens, & 
to yow gret prayse for the bryngyng of the same to passe 
for your olde brynger up and lovying frende. Thys 
kyndnes exibite from the kyng^'s hyghnes shal prolong my 
lyiF for some lytyl whyl, thow yt shall nat be long, by the 
meane whereof hys grace shal take profygtt, & by my 
deth non. What ys yt to hys hyhnes to give some con- 
venyent porcion owt of Wynchester, & Seynt Albons, 
hys grace takyng with my lierty good wyl the resydew. 
Remember, good Mr. Secretary, my poore degre, & what 
servys I have done, and how nowe approchyng to deth, 
I must begyn the world ageyn. I besech you therfore, 
movyd with pity and compassyon soker me in thys my 
calainyte, and to your power wych I knowe ys gret, 
releve me; and I wyth all myn shal not onely ascrybe 



476 ORIGINAL LETTERS. 

tliys my relef unto yow, but also praye to God for the 
increase of your honor, & as my poore shal increase, so 
I shal not fayle to requyte your kyndnes. Wryttyn 
hastely at Asher, with the rude and shackyng hand of 
Your dayly bedysman. 

And assuryd frend, 

T. CAR^'*^ EBOK. 
To the ryght honorable 
and my assuryd frende 
Mastyr Secretary, 



LETTER XV. 

Cardinal Wolsey to Secretary Gardener^ 

Desiring him to write to him and give him an account of the king's 
intentions with regard to him. (Frovi Strype.J 



Myn own good mastyr secretary, albeit I am in such 
altiration and indisposition of my hede & body, by the 
meansse of my dayly sorowe & hevynesse, that I am 
fen omit to writ any long Ires. Yet my trustyng frend, 
Thomas Crowmwel, retornyng & reparyng unto yow, I 
cowde nat forbere, but brively to put yow in remem- 
brance : how that aftyr the consultation takyn by the 
kyngs hyghnes opon myn orderyng, which ye supposyd 
shulde be on Sunday was sevennyght, ye wolde not fayle 
to advertyse me at the length of the specialties thereof. 
Of the wch to here & have knowleg, I have & dayly do 
looke for. I pray yow therefore at the reverens of God, 
& of this holy tyme, & as ye love 8? tendyr my poore lyf, 



ORIGINAI, LETTERS. Ail 

do SO moche as to wrytt onto me your seyd Ires : wherby 
I may take some cumfort & rest : nat dowting but your 
hert is so gentyl & pityful, that havyng knowleg in what 
agony I am yn, ye wole take the payne to send onto me 
your seyd consollatory Ires. Wherby ye shal nat onely 
deserve towai*d God, but also bynde me to be as I am, 
your contynual bedysman. Wrytten this mornyng at 
Asher, with the rude hand and sorroweful hert of yours 
with hert and prayer. 

T. Cahdinalis Ebor. Miserrimus. 

TjO the right honorable 
Mr. Secretary. 



LETTER XVI. 

Cardinal Wolsey to Secretary Gai-dener. 
To draw up his pardon. (From Strype.) 



Myn owne good Mastyr Secretary, 
Aftyr my moste herty recommendations, with lycke 
thanks for your goodnes towards me, thes shal be to 
advertyse yow that I have beyn informyd by my trusty 
frend Thomas Cromwell that ye have signifyed onto 
hym to my syngular consolation how that the kynges 
highnes movyd with pety & compassyon, & of hys ex- 
cellent goodnes & cherytc consyderyng the lamentable 
condition & stat that I stand yn, hath wyllyd yow with 
other lords and mastyrs of hys honorable cownsell, to 



478 ORIGINAL LETTERS. 

intende to the perfyghtyng & absolvyng without further 
tract or delay of myn end & appoyntement ; and that 
my pardon shulde be made in the moste ample forme 
that my counsell cowde devise. For thys the kyngs 
moste gracyous remembrance, procedyng of hymself, I 
accompt my sylf not onely moste bowndyn to serve &e 
pray for the preservation of hys moste royal majestic, 
but also thancke God that ye have occasion given onto 
you to be a sollycyter & setter forth of such thynges as 
do & shall conserve my seyde ende. In the makyng & 
compowndyng wherof myn assured truste is, that ye 
wole shewe the love & affection wych ye have & bere 
towards me, your olde lover & frende: so declaryng 
your self therin, that the worlde may parceyve that by 
your good meanys the kyng ys the bettyr goode lorde 
unto me ; & that nowe newly in maner comyng to the 
world, ther maye be such respect had to my poore degree, 
olde age & longe contynued servys, as shal be to the 
kyngs hygh honor & your gret prayse & laude. Wych 
ondowtydly shall folowe yf ye optinde yowre benyvolens 
towards me, & men perceive that by your wisdome & 
dexterite I shalbe relevyd, & in this my calamyte holpen. 
At the reverens therefore of God myn owne goode Mr. 
Secretary, & refugy, nowe set to your hande, that I may 
come to a laudable end & repos, seyng that I may be 
furnyshyd aftyr such a sorte & maner as I may ende my 
short tyme & lyff to the honor of Crystes churche & 
the prince. And besides my dayly prayer & true hert 
I shal so requyte your kyndnes, as ye shall have cause 
to thyncke the same to be well imployde, lycke as my 
seyd trusty frende shall more amply shewe onto you. 
To whom yt may please yow to geve firme credens and 



ORIGINAL LETTF.ns. 479 

lovyng audyens. And I shall pray for the increase of 
your honour. Wryttyn at Assher with the treniyllyng 
hand & hevy hert of your assuryd lover & bedysnian 

T. CAED' '"^ EBOR. 
To the ryght honorable and 
ray singular good frende 
Mayster Secretary. 



LETTER XVII. 

Cardinal Wolsey to Secretary Gardener, 

Desiring him to favour the cause of the Provost of Beverly, and to 
intercede with the king for him and his colleges. (From Strype. ) 



Myne awne gentil Maistee Secretary, 
After my mooste herty recommendations, these shal 
be to thanke you for the greate humanite, lovyng & 
gentil recule, that ye have made unto the poore Provost 
of Beverly : & specialy, for that ye have in such wise 
addressed hym unto the kings highnes presence, that his 
grace not onely hath shewed unto hym, that he is his 
goode & gracious lorde, but also that it hath pleased hys 
majeste to admitte & accepte hym as his poore orator & 
scholer. Wherby both he &e I accompte our selfs so 
bounden unto you, that we cannot telle how to requite 
this your gratitude h kyndenes ; mooste hartely praying 
you to contynue in your good favour towards hym, & to 
take hym & his pore causis into your patrocynyc & pro- 
tection. And, as myne assured expectation & trust is, 
to remember the poor state & condition that I stond in. 



480 ORIGINAL LETTERS. 

& to be a meane to the kyngs higlmess for my relefe in 
the same. In doyng wherof ye shal not onely deserve 
thanks of God, but also declare to your perpetual laud 
and prayse, that ye beyng in auctorite, have not forgoten 
your olde maister & frynde. And in the wey of charite, 
& for the love that ye bere to virtue, & ad bona studia, 
be meane to the kyngs highnes for my poore colleges ; 
and specially for the college of Oxford. Suffer not the 
things, which by your greate lernyng, studie, counsaile 
& travaile, hath bene erected, founden, & with good 
statutes & ordinances, to the honour of God, increase 
of vertue & lernyng established, to be dissolved or dis- 
membred. Ye do know, no man better, to what use the 
monasteries, suppressed by the popis licence, the kyngs 
consente concurryng with the same, & a pardon for the 
premoneri^, be converted. It is nat to be doubted, but 
the kyngs highnes, of his high vertue & equite, beyng 
informed how every thing is passed, his mooste gracious 
license & consente (as is aforesaid) adhibited therunto, 
wol never go aboute to dissolve the said incorporations 
or bodyes, wherof so greate benefite & commodite shal 
insue unto his realme & subjects. Superfluities, if any 
such shal be thought & founden, may be resecat ; but to 
destroy the hole, it were to greate pitie. 

Eftsones therefore, good Maister Secretarie, I beseche 
you to be good maister & patrone to the said colleges : 
" Et non sinas opus manuum tuaram perire, aut ad 
nihilum redige." Thus doyng, both I, & they shal not 
onely pray for you, but in such wise deserve your paynes, 
as ye shal have cause to thinke the same to be wel be- 



Premunire. 



ORIGIXAT, LETTERS. 481 

stowed & imployed, like as this present berer slial more 
at the large shewe unto you. To whom it may please 
the same to geve firme credence. And thus mooste 
hartely fare ye wel. From Sothewell, the xxiij"^ day of 
July. 

Your lovyng frende, 

T. CAU'-''^ EBOK. 

To the right honorable & my 
singular good frende M"" 
Doctor Stephyns, Secretory 
to the Kings Highnes. 



LETTER XVIII. 

Cardinal Wolscy to Secretary Gardener, 

Desiring his favour in a suit against him for a debt of 700/. by one 
Strangwi.sh. (From Strype.J 



Myne awne GOOD Maister Secretary, 
After my mooste harty recommendations, these shal 
be to desire, & mooste effectuelly to pray you to be good 
maister & friende unto me, concernyng the uncharitable 
sute of Strangwishe for vij C li., which he pretenditli 
that I shulde owe unto hym, for the ward of Bowes. 
And albeit there was at his fyrste comyng to my service, 
by our mutual consents, a perfecte end made bctwoet\ 
hym & me for the same, yet nowe digress^mg therfrom, 
perceyvyng that I am out of favour, destitute of socoiu*, 
& in calamite, he not onely newly demaimdyth the said 
vij C li. but also hath made complaint unto the kyngs 
highnes, surmittyng, that I shulde, contrary to justice, 
deteyne from hym the said vij C li. For the redresse 



482 ORIGINAL LETTERS. 

whereof, it hath pleased the kyngs majeste to direct his 
mooste honorable letters unto me ; the contents wherof 
I am sure be nat unknowij unto you. And insuing the 
purporte therof, & afore the delyvere of the same thre 
days by past, notwithstanding my greate necessite & 
poverte, onely to be out of his exclamation & inquietnes, 
I have written to my trusty friende, M' Cromwel, to 
make certeyn reasonable offres unto hym for that intent 
and purpose ; moost hartely beseching you to helpe, that 
upon declaration of such things, as upon my part shal 
be signified unto you by the said Maister Cromwell, 
some such end, by your friendely dexterite, may bee 
made betwixt us, as shal accorde with good congruence, 
& as I may supporte & be hable (myne other debts and 
charges considered) to here. In the doyng wherof, ye 
shall bynde me to be your dayly bedesman, as knoweth 
God, who alwayes preserve you. From Sothewell, the 
xxv*h day of August. 

Yours with hert & prayer, 

T. CAR^^^ EBOR. 
To my right entierly welbiloved 
frende M"^ Stephyn Gardener, 
Secretory to kyngs highnes. 



LETTER XIX. 

Lettre de Monsieur de Bellay Evesque de Bayotme a 
M'' le Grant Maistre. De Londres le xvij Oct. 1529. 

[mss. de bethune biblioth. du roYj v. 8603. f. 113.] 



MoNSEiGNEUR, depuis les lettres du Roy & les aultres 
vostres que je pensoye sur Theure envoyer, cette depesche 



OKIGIXAL LETTERS. 4S-^ 

a estee retarde jusques ;\ present, parcc qu'll a fallu fairc 
& refaire les lettres que je vous envoye tout plein de 
fois, & poui' ce aller & venir souvent, tant les Dues 
memes qu'aultres de ce coiiseil a Windesore, dont toute a 
cette heure ils les ni''ont envoyees en la forme que verrez 
par le double d'iceux. Ils me prient le plus fort du 
monde de faire qu'on ne trouve mauvais si en ces expe- 
ditions, & mesmement en ce que touche le principal de 
la depesche, je ne suis de tout satisfait comme je voul- 
droye, & aussi eulx mesmes, s'excusans que leur maniere 
de negocier envers leur maistre n''est encore bien dressee, 
mais pour Tadvenir doibvent faire merveilles, & en bail- 
lent de si grands asseurances & si bien jurees, que je ne 
puis me garder de les croire ; je n*'ay point refreschy 
mes lettres au Roy, car je ne voy point qu'il y en ait 
matiere. 

Au demourant, j''ay este voir le Cardinal en ses ennuis, 
ou j''ay trouve les plus grand exemple de fortune que on 
ne scauroit voir, il m'a remonstre son cas en la plus 
mauvaise rhetorique que je viz jamais, car cueur & 
paroUe luy failloient entierement ; il a bien ploure & prie 
que le Roy & Madame voulsissent avoir pitie de luy, 
s''ils avoyent trouve qu'il leur eust guarde promesse de 
leur estre bon serviteur autant que son honneur & povoir 
se y est peu estendre, mais il me a la fin laisse sans me 
pouvoir dire autre chose qui vallist mieux que son visage, 
qui est bien descheu de la moitie de juste pris : & vous 
promets, Monseigneur, que sa fortune est telle que ses 
ennemis, encore qu'ils soyent Angloys, ne se scauroyent 
guarder d'en avoir pitic, ce nonobstant ne le laisscront do 
]e poui'suivre jusques au bout, & ne voyt de moycn do 
son salut, aussi ne fais-jc sinon qu'il plaiso au Roy & ;\ 
Madame de Tnyder. De legation, de sceau d'auctoritc, 

I 1 '^ 



484 ORIGINAL LETTERS. 

de credit il n'en demande point, il est prest de laisser 
tout jusques a la chemise, & que on le laisse vivre en 
ung hermitage, ne le tenant ce Roy en sa mal grace : Je 
Pay reconforte au mieulx que j'ay peu, mais je n'y ay 
sceu faire grant chose : Depuis par un en qui il se fie, il 
m'a mande ce qu'il vouldroit qu"'on feist pour luy de la 
plus grand partie, luy voyant qu'il ne touchoit au bien 
des affaires du Roy qu'on luy accordast la plus raison- 
nable chose qui demande, c"'est que le Roy escripvist a 
ce Roy qu'il est un grand bruit de par dela qu'il I'ait re- 
cuUe d'autour de luy, & fort eslonge de la bonne grace, 
en sorte qu'on diet qu'il doibve estre destruict, ce que ne 
pense totalement estre comme on le diet ; toutefois pour 
la bonne fraternite, qu'ils ont ensemble, & si grant com- 
munication de toUs leurs plus grans ajffaires, Ta bien 
voulu prier de y avoir egard, affin qu'il n''en entre soul- 
dainement quelque mauvaise fantasie en vers ceulx qui 
ont veu qu'en si grant solemnite & auctorite, il ait servy 
d'instrument en cette perpetuelle amitie tant renommee 
par toute la Chretiente ; & que si d'adventure il estoit 
entre en quelque malcontentement de luy, il veiiille ung 
peu moderer son affection, comme il est bien sur que luy 
vouldront conseiller ceulx qui sont autour de sa personne 
& au maniement de ses plus grandes affaires. Voila, 
Monseigneur, la plus raisonable de toutes ses demandes, 
en laquelle ne me veulx ingerer de dire mon ad vis, si 
diray-je bien qu''il n"'y a personne ici qui deust prendre a 
mal telle lettre ; & mesment la oii ils considereront, comme 
de facit ils font, qu'il sont forces de prendre & tenir plus 
que jamais votre party, & d'advantage asseureray bien 
que la plus grant prinse qulls ayent peu avoir suz luy 
du commencement, & qui plus leur a servi a le brouiller 
envers le Roy, a est6 qu'il declara a ma venue decza trap 



ORIGINAL LETTERS. 485 

ouvertement de vouloir aller a Cambray, car les aultres 
persuaderent au maistre ce que c'estoient, seulement pour 
eviter d'estre a Texpedition du mariage, & outre cela 
vous promets que sans luy les aultres mectoyent ce Roy 
en ung terrible train de ronipre la pratique de paix dont 
vous escripvis quelque mot en ce temps-la, mais j'^en 
laissay dix fois en la plume, voyant que tout estoit rabille, 
je vous les diray estant la, & je suis seurque le trouverez 
fort estrange : II me semble, Monsieur, que a tout cela, 
& plusieurs aultres choses que bien entendez de vous- 
mesmes, on doibt avoir quelque egard, vous donnerez, s''il 
vous plaist, advis au Roy & a Madame de tout cecy, affin 
qu'ils advisent ce qu'il leur plaira en faire, s''ils pensent 
n'empirer par cela leurs affaires, je croy que voulen tiers, 
outre ce que sera quelque charite, ils vouldi'ont qu"* on 
cognoisse qu'ils ayent retire ung leur affectionne ser- 
viteur, & tenu pour tel par chescun, des portes d'enfer ; 
mais sur tout, Monseigneur, il desire que ce Roy ne con- 
noisse qu'ils en ayent este reqviis, & que il les en ay fait 
requerir en fa9on du monde, cela Pacheveroit d'affoller ; 
car pour vous dire le vray, & hormis toute affection, je 
vous asseure que la plus grant prinse que ses ennemis 
ayent eu'e sur luy, outre celle du mariage, ce a este de 
persuader ce Roy que il avoit tousjours eu en temps de 
paix et de guerre intelligence secrette a Madame, de 
laquelle ladite guerre durant il avoit eu des grants pre- 
sens, qui furent cause que Suffolc estant a Montdidier, il 
nc le secourut d'argent comme il debvoit, dont avint que 
il ne prit Paris ; mais ils en parlent en Toreille de ce 
propos, afin que je n'en soy adverty. Quant auxdits 
prescns, il espere que Madame ne le nuyra oii il en sera 
parle, do toutes aultres choses il s'en recommande en sa 
bonne grace. La fantaisic do cc.s seigneurs est <juc luy 
mort ou ruine, il deffeicnt incontinent icy Testat de 



486 ORIGINAL LETTERS. 

TEglise, & prendront tous leiirs biens, qu'il seroit ja be- 
soing que je misse en chiffre, car ils le crient en plaine 
table ; je croy qu'ils feront de beaux miracles, si m'a diet 
vostre grant prophete au visaige bronse, que ce Roy ne 

vivre gueres plus que au quel, comme vous 

s^avez, a ce que je voy par ses escriptures, il n'a bailie 
terme que de la monstre de May. Je ne veulx oublier a 
vous dire que si le Roy & Madame veuUent faire quelque 
chose pour le Legat, il faudroit se haster, encores ne 
seront jamais icy ses iettres que il n'ait perdu le sceau, 
toutefois il ne pense plus a cela, elles serviront pour le 
demourant, aussi venant icy mon successeur, comme 
chascun s''attend qu'il viendra dans peu des jours, ils luy 
donnassent charge d'en parler ; le pis de son mal est que 
Mademoiselle de Boulen a faict promettre ^ son amy que 
il ne Tescoutera jamais parler ; car elle pense bien qu'il 
ne le pourroit garder d'en avoir pitie. 

Monseigneur, tout ce qui sera de bon en tout ce dis- 
cours, vous le S9aurez prendre comme tel; s'il y aura 
riens qui semble party de trop d'affection, je vous supplie 
m''ayder a en excuser, & qu'il soit pris de bon part, car U 
oii la matiere seroit mauvaise si vous assureray-je bieii 
que rintention n'est telle, et la dessus est bien temps pour 
vous & pour moy que je facze fin a la pr^sente, me re- 
commande humblement en vostre bonne grace, & pryant 
nostre Seigneur qu'il vous doint bonile vie & longue. 
Vostre humble Serviteur, 

J. DU BELLAY, 

Evesque de Bayonne. 
De Loudres, le xvij tVOctobre, 
a Monsiegneur 

Monsuigueui 
Lc Grant Maistre & Marechal cle France. 



OIIK.INAL LETTERS. 487 



LETTER XX. 

Thomas Alward to Thomas Cromwell. A. D. 1529. 

[ms. cotton, vitellius b. XII. fol. 173. Orig.] 

The following Letter (says Mr. Ellis), though mutilated, pre- 
sents a genuine picture of one of the last interviews with which 
Wolsey was favoured by his Sovereign. It is dated on the 23''. 
of September ; sixteen days after which the King's attorney pre- 
sented the indictment against hun in the Court of King's Bench 
upon the Statute of Provisors. 

Thomas Alward, the writer of this Letter, appears to have been 
the Keeper of Wolsey's Wardrobe. He has been already inci- 
dentally named in the Letter which relates to the foundation of 
Ipswich College." 



Maister Cromwel, 
I N my mooste hardest wise I \commende me] unto you ; 
advertisyng the same that I have die\y\yered your Ires] 
unto my lordis grace who did immediatly rede over \the 
same'} after the redyng wherof his grace did put theym 

in and so kepte theym always close 

to hym self. Th[i5 / note] unto you, bicause I never 
sawe hym do the like bifo[re time] the which your lettres 

his grace commaunded me And first, 

the same hertely thankyth you for your . . adver- 
tysement made unto hym from tyme to tyme [()f socfie] 
tilings as ye have written unto his grace wherin I know 
[ye have] don unto his grace singular pleasur and good 
service ; and as [fo?] the vain bruts which goth again.st 



488 ORIGINAL LETTERS. 

my lords [grace'\ I assur you as fer as may apper unto 
my said [lord and^ other that be his servaunts, they be 
mervailous false, . . and gretely I do mervaile wherof 
the same shul[f/e arise] for I assur you that in this va- 
cacion tyme [/ii/veis] lettres wer written by the kyngs 
commaundment from [Mr. »S^^]vyns unto my said lord, 
by the which his adv[«se] and opinion was at sundry 
tymes desired ... in the kyngs causis and aJEFaires, 
unto the which lettres [aunswer'] was made from tyme to 
tyme, as well by my lords [ron/Jtyng as also by the send- 
yng of his servaunts to the. [courte witli] instructions by 
mouth to the kyng's highnes as the [ma fer] and case did 
requir. Over this the noblemen and gentry [as isoeW] in 
my lords goyng to the courte as also in his retourne from 
[tJie] same dyd mete and incounter hym at many places 
gently [and] humaynly as they wer wonte to do. On Son- 
day last my lords grace, with the Legat Campegius cam 
unto the courte at Grene[wiche] wher they wer honorably 
receyved and accompanyed with sundry of the kings 
counsaile and servaunts, and so brought bifor masse onto 
the king's presence, who graciously and benigly after the 
accustumed goodnes of his highnes, with very famihar 
and loving acountenance did welcome theym. And after 
communication and talkyng awhiles with my Lorde Cam- 
pegius, his grace talked a grete while with my lorde a 
parte, which don, they departed all to geder in to chapel. 
And immediatly after dyner my lords grace went again 
unto the kyngs highnes beyng then in his pry vie chamber 
wher they wer commonyng and talkyng to geder at the 
leeste for the space of ij. houres, no person beyng present, 
and a friende of myne beyng of the prive chamber told 
me at my lords departur that tyme from thens ther was 



ORIGINAL LETTERS. 489 

as good and as familiar accountynaunce shewed and used 
betwene theym as ever he sawe in his life heretofor. This 
don my lords grace with the legat retourned imto theyr 
logyng at Maister Empson's place. On jVIonday in the 
mornyng my lord leving the legat at his logyng went 
again unto the kyngs grace, and after long talkyng in his 
privie chamber to geder, the kyng, my lord, and all the 
hole counsaile sate to geder all that for'none aboute the 
kyngs matiers and affaires. In the after none, my lords 
grace having then with hym the Legat Campegius, went 
to the kyng's grace, and after talkyng and communication 
had a long whilis with the legat a parte they both toke 
ther leve of the kyngs highnes in as good fascion and 
maner, and with asmoche gentilnes, as ever I saw bifor. 
This don, the kyngs grace went huntyng. The legate 
retourned to Maister Empson, and my lords grace taried 
ther in counsaile til it was darke nyght. Further mor 
my Lord of Suffblke, my Lord of Rochford, Maister 
Tuke, and Master Stevyns did as gently [6^]have 
theymselfs, with as moche observaunce and humy[lj/te 
to] my lords grace as ever I sawe theym do at any [(ywf ] 
tofor. What they bere in ther harts I knowe n[o/.] Of 
the premissis I have seen Avith myne ies ; wherfor I 
boldely presume and thinke that they be ferre [Jiirth] 
overseen that sowth 9 the said false and untrewe reports : 
ascerteynyng you if ye coulde marke som[e of the] chief 
stirrers therof ye shulde do unto his grace [moche] plea- 
siu-. Assone as ye can spede your bysynes th[er6' vij/] lord 
wolde be very glad of your retourne. My lord wilbe on 
Monday next at London. And the Legat [0/?«]pegius 

^ so we ill. 



490 ORIGINAL LETTEES. 

shal departe shortely oute of Englonde. A[nd thus] 
makynganende I commit you to the tuicion and g[widance 
of] Almjghty God. From Saint Albons the xxiij'^'' S[ep-] 
tember. 

All the gentilmen of my lords chamber with the . . 
. . . . 1 of commendith them hartely unto you. 
Yowrs to my lytle [power] 

THOMAS ALVARD. 

• /. rest thereof. 



A TRUE DESCRIPTION, 

OR RATHER 

A PARALLEL 



BETWEE> 



CAIIDINALL WOLSEY, 

ARCH-BISHOP OF YORK, 

AND 

WILLIAM LAUD, 

ARCH-BISHOP OF CANTERBVRIE, &r. 

PRINTED IN THE VERE 1«11. 



The following parallel between Laud and Wolsey is referred to in a 
note at p. 342 of the Life of Wolsey. It was printed at the same 
time and for the same purpose as the first garbled edition of that 
life ; namely — to prejudice Archbishop Laud in the minds of the 
people. The press then teemed with pamphlets levelled at him, and 
in the same volume I find two others : " The Character of an untrue 
Bishop, with a Recipe to recover a Bishop if he were lost." And 
— " England's Rejoycing at the Prelates Downfall, written by an 
Jll-willer to the Romish Brood:" both of the same date. 



A TRUE DESCRIPTION, 

OR RATHER 

A PARALLEL 

BETWENE 

CARDINAL WOLSEY AND ARCH-BISHOP LAUD. 



There be two primates, or arch-bishops throughout Eng- 
land and Wales, Canterburie and Yorke, both metropo- 
litans, York of England, Canterburie of all England, 
for so their titles runne. To the primate of Canterburie 
bee subordinate thirteene bishops in England, and foure 
in Wales. But the primate of Yorke hath at this time 
but two suffragans in England : namely, the Bishops of 
Carhele, and Durham : though hee had in King Lucius 
dayes, (who was the first Christian king of this our 
nation) all the prelacy of Scotland within his juris- 
diction : Canterburie commanding all from this side 
the River Trent to the furthest limits of Wales ; and 
York commanding all from beyond the Trent to the 
utmost bounds of Scotland, and hitherto, their prime 
archiepiscopall prerogatives may (not unproperly) be 
paralleld. 

In the time of Henrie the first were potent two famous 
prelates, Anselme of Canterburie, who durst contest 
against the king, and Girald of Yorke, who denycd to 
give place or any precedence at all to Anselme. Thomas 
Becket, who was first chancellour, and after Arch-bisliop 



494 PARALLEL BETWEEN 

of Canterburie, in the reigne of Henrie the Second, bore 
himselfe so insolently against the king his soveraigne, 
that it cost him his life, being slaine in the church as he 
was going to the altar. But above all, the pride, tyrannie, 
and oppression of the Bishop of Ely, in the reigne of 
Richard the First, wants example, who was at once Chan- 
cellour of England, and Regent of the land, and held in 
his hand at once the two Arch-bishopricks of York and 
Canterburie, who never rid abroad without a thousand 
horse for his guard to attend him, whom we may well 
parallel with the now great Cardinall of France : and 
need hee had of such a traine to keep himselfe from 
being pulled to peeces by the oppressed prelates, and 
people, equally extorting from the clergie and laietie; 
yet he in the end, disguising himselfe in the shape of an 
old woman, thinking to passe the sea at Dover, where hee 
a way ted on the Strand, a pinace being hired for that 
pui-pose, he was discovered by a sayler, and brought backe 
to abide a most severe sentence. Stephen Lancthon, Arch- 
bishop of Canterburie, in the time King lohn, would not 
absolve the land, being for sixe yeares together indicted 
by the pope, till the king had payd unto him and the 
rest of the bishops, eighteene thousand markes in gold ; 
and thus I could continue the pride of the prelacie, and 
their great tyrannie through all the kings reignes : But 
I now fall upon the promist parallel betwixt Thomas 
Wolsey, Arch-bishop of York, and Cardinall, and Wil- 
liam Laud, Doctor in Divinitie, and Arch-bishop of Can- 
terburie. 

They were both the sonnes of meane and mechanick 
men, Wolsey of a butcher, Laud of a clothworker. The 
one borne in Ipswich (threescore miles), the other in 
Reading, thirtie miles distant from the City of London, 



WOLSEY AND LAUD. 495 

bothof them verie toward, forward, and pregnant grammar 
schollars, and of singular apprehensions, as suddenly 
rising to the first forme in the schoole. From thence, 
being yong, they were removed to the Vniversitie of Ox- 
ford, Wolsey admitted into Maudlin Coledge, Laud into 
St. lohns ; and as they were of different times, so they 
were of different statures ; yet either of them well shapt 
according to their proportions; Wolsey was of a com- 
petent tallnesse. Laud of a lesse size, but might be called 
a prettie man, as the other a proper man : both of in- 
genious and acute aspects, as may appeai'e by this mans 
face, the others picture. In their particular colledges 
they were ahke proficients, both as active of body as 
braine, serious at their private studies, and equally fre- 
quent in the schooles, eloquent orators, either to write, 
speake, or dictate, daintie disputants, well verst in philo- 
sophy, both morall, physicall, and metaphysical, as also 
in the mathematicks, and neither of them strangers to the 
muses, both taking their degrees according to their 
time ; and through the whole academic. Sir Wolsey 
was called the boy-batchelour, and Sir Laud the little 
batchelour. 

The maine study that either of them fixt upon was 
theology : for though they were conversant in all the other 
arts and sciences, yet that they solely profest, and by that 
came their future preferment ; Wolsey being Batchelour 
was made schoole-master of Maudlin Schoole in Oxford : 
but Laud came in time to be master of St. lohns Col- 
ledge in Oxford, therein transcending the other, as also 
in his degrees of Master of Art, Batchelour of Divinitie, 
and Doctor of Divinitie, when the other being suddenly 
cald from the rectorship of his schoole, to be resident 
upon a countrie benefice, he took no more academicall 



496 PARALLEL BETWEEN 

degrees, than the first of Batchelour, and taking a strange 
affront by one Sir Amias Paulet, a knight in the countrie, 
who set him in the stocks, he indured likewise divers 
other disasters : but that disgrace he rhade the knight 
pay dearely for, after he came to be invested in his dig- 
nitie. Briefely, they came both to stand in the princes 
eye; but ere I proceed any further, let me give the 
courteous reader this modest caveat, that he is to ex- 
pect from me onely a parallell of their acts and fortune, 
but no legend of their lives; it therefore briefely thus 
folio weth. 

Both these from academicks comming to turne cour- 
tiers ; Wolsey, by his diligent waiting, came to insinuate 
himselfe into the brests of the privie counsellours. His 
first emploiment was in an embassie to the emperour, 
which was done by such fortunate, and almost incredible 
expedition, that by that only he grew into first grace 
with King Henry the Seventh, father to King Henry the 
Eighth. Laud, by the mediation and meanes wrought 
by friends, grew first into favour with King lames of 
sacred memory, father to our now royall soveraigne King 
Charles. They were both at first the kings chaplaines, 
Wolseyes first preferment was to bee Deane of Lincolne, 
of which hee was after bishop. Lauds first ecclesiasticall 
dignity was to be Deane of Saint Davids, of which he 
was after bishop also. And both these prelaticall cour- 
tiers came also to be privie counsellours. Woolsey in 
the beginning of Henry the Eighth's raigne, was made 
Bishop of Tourney in France, soone after Bishop of Lin- 
coln, and before his full consecration (by the death of 
the incumbent) was ended, translated to the Arch-bishop- 
rick of York, and all this within the compasse of a yeare ; 
Laud, though not so suddainly, yet very speedily was 



WOLSEY AND LAUD. 497 

•om St. Davids removed to London, and from London 
) Canterburie, and this in the beginning of the reigne of 
:ing Charles. Thus you see they were both arch- 
ishops, and as Laud Avas never cardinall, so Woolsey 
as never Canterburie. 

But in some things the cardinall mvich exceeded Can- 
irburie, as in holding all these bishopricks at once, 
hen the other was never possest but of one at one time, 
'he cardinall also held the bishoprick of Winchester, 
■ Worcester, Bath and Wells, with a fourth, and two 
)bat-ships in commendam : He had besides an hat sent 
xa from R-orae, and made hiniselfe cardinall, (that being 
ifore but Yorke) he might over-top Canterburie. But 
ir Wilham, howsoever he might have the will, yet 
;ver attained to that power, and howsoever hee could 
)t compasse a hat from Rome, yet made the meanes to 
ive a consecrated miter sent from Rome ; which was so 
irrowly watcht, that it came not to his wearing. More- 
er, the cardinall extorted the chancellourship from 
anterburie; but we finde not that Canterburie ever 
;her trencht upon the jurisdiction, or tooke any thing 
i^ay from the arch-bishoprick of York. 
Woolsey hkewise farre out-went him in his mmaerous 
line, and the noblenesse thereof, being waited on not 
ely by the prime gentrie, but even of earles, and earles 
anes, who were listed in his family, and attended him 

his table, as also in his hospitalitie, his open house 
ing made free for all commers, with the rare and ex- 
lordinarie state of his palace, in which there were daily 
(rising and downe-lying a thousand persons, who were 
5 domestick servants. Moreover in his many entertain- 
mts of the K. with masks, and mightie sumptuous 
nquets, his sumptuous buildings, the prince-like state 

K K 



498 PARALLEL BETWEEN 

he carried in his forraigne embassages, into France, to the 
emperor, &c. in which he spent more coyne in the service 
of his king, for the honour of his countrie, and to uphold 
the credit of his cardinals cap, than would (for the time) 
have paid an armie royal. But I answer in behalfe of 
our Canterburie, that hee had never that meanes or im- 
ployment, by which hee might make so vain-glorious a 
show of his pontificalitie, or archiepiscopall dignitie : For 
unbounded mindes may bee restrained within narrow 
limmits, and therefore the parallel may something hold 
in this too. 

They were also in their judiciall courts equally tyran- 
nous; the one in the chancerie, the other in the high 
commission : both of them at the councell boord, and in 
the starre-chamber alike draconically supercilious. Blood 
drawne from Doctor Bonners head by the fall of his 
crosse presaged the cardinals downfall. Blood drawne 
from the eares of Burton, Prin, and Bastwick, was a 
prediction of Canterburies ruine; the first accidentall, 
the last premeditate and of purpose 1. The cardinall 

• This mention of omens reminds me that Dr. Wordsworth in 
his notes to Wolsey's Life has related the following affecting anec- 
dote of Archbishop Laud. 

" The year 1639 we all know was big with events calamitous to 
Laudj and to the church and monarchy. In Lambeth Library is 
preserved a small pane of glass, in which are written with a diamond 
pencil the following words : 

Memorand: Ecclesiae de 

Micham, Cheme et Stone, cum aliis 

fulguro combusta sunt 

Januar: 14, 163f. 

Omen evertat Deus. 

On a piece of paper the same size as the glass and Icept in the 
same case with it, is written by the hand of Abp. Wake, as fol- 



WOLSEY AND LAUD. 499 

would have expelled all the Lutherans and Protestants 
out of the realme, this our Canterburie would have exird 
both our Dutch and French church out of the kingdome. 
The cardinall took maine dehght in his foole Patch, and 
Canterburie tooke much delight in his partie-coloured 
cats. The cardinall used for his agents Bonner and 
others, Canterburie for his ministers. Duck, Lamb, and 
others. They both favoured the Sea of Rome, and re- 
spected his holinesse in it. The cardinall did professe 
it publickly, the arch-bishop did reverence it privately. 
The cardinalls ambition was to bee pope, the arch-bishop 
strove to bee patriarch, they both bid fairely for it, yet 
lost their aime ; and farre easier it is for men to descend 
than to ascend. 

The cardinall (as I have said) was very ambitious ; 
the arch-bishop was likewise of the same minde, though 
better moulded, and of a more politick braine, having a 
close and more reserved judgement in all his observations, 
and more fluent in his deHverie. The cardinall was verie 
carious in his attire and ornament of his body, and took 
great delight in his traine, and other his servants for 
their rich aparrell; the arch-bishop his attire was neat 
and rich, but not so gaudie as the cardinals was, yet 
tooke as much felicitie in his gentlemens rich aparrell, 
especially those that waited on his person, as ever the 
cardinall did, though other men paid for them : and if 
all men had their ouTie, and every bird her feather, some 
of them would bee as bare as those that professe them- 



lows : " This glasse was taken out of the west-window of the 
gallery at Croydon ])efore I new-built it: and is, as I Uike it. the 
writing of Abp. Laud's own liand." 

K K 2 



500 PARALLEL BETWEEN 

selves to bee of the sect of the Adamists : To speake 
truth, the arch-bishops men were all given to covetous- 
nesse and wantonnesse ; that I never heard of was in the 
cardinals men. 

As the cardinall Avas sumptuous in his buildings, as 
that of White Hall, Hampton Court, &c. as also in laying 
the foundation of two famous coledges, the one at Ipswich, 
where he was borne, the other at Oxford, where he had 
his breeding : so Christ-Church, which he left unjSnished, 
Canterburie hath since repaired ; and wherein he hath 
come short of him in building, though he hath bestowed 
much on St. lohns Coledge, yet he hath out-gone him in 
his bountie of brave voluminous books, being fourescore 
in number, late sent to the Bodleian or Universitie Li- 
brarie: Further, as the cardinall was Chancelour of 
England, so Canterburie was Chancellour of Oxford: 
And as the cardinall by plucking downe of some small 
abbies, to prepare stone for his greater structures, opened 
a gap for the king, by which he tooke the advantage ut- 
terly to raze and demolish the rest : so Canterburie by 
giving way for one bishop to have a temporall triall ; and 
to be convicted, not by the clergie, but the laitie, so he 
left the same path open both for himselfe and the rest of 
the episcopacie : of which, there before scarce remained 
a president. 

I have paralleld them in their dignities : I will con- 
clude with a word or two concerning their downefalls. 
The cardinall fell into the displeasure of his king, Can- 
terburie into an extreame hatred of the commons : both 
were arrested of high treason, the cardinall by processe, 
Canterburie by parliament. The cardinall at Keywood 
Castle neare Yorke, Canterbvu'ie at Westminster neare 



WOLSEY AXD LAUD. 501 

London ; both their falls were speedy and suddaine : 
The cardinall sate as this day in the high court of chan- 
cerie, and within two dayes after was confined to his 
house ; Canterburie as this day sate at the counsell boord, 
and in the upper house of parliament, and the same day 
committed to the blacke rod, and from thence to the 
Tower : The cardinal! dyed at Leicester some say of a 
flux ; Canterburie remaines still in the Tower, onely 
sick of a fever. Vanitas vanitatiim, omnia vanitas. 



502 



The Will of Thomas Wolsey, Cardinal Wolsey's father ; 
E Lihro Testamentorum in Registro principali Dni. 
Epi. Norwic. Multon inscripto, Jb. 146. a. 



In Dei Nomine, amen. The xxxi day of the Moneth 
of September the yer of our Lord God a m, cccclxxxxvi. 
I Robert Wulcy of Ipyswiche hool of mend and in good 
memory beyng, make my testament and my last wyll in 
this maid wyse. Fyrst, I bequeth my soull to Ahnyghty 
God, our Lady Sent Mary, and to all the company of 
hevyn, and my body to be buryed in the churche yard 
of our Lady Sent Mary of Neum'^ket. Also I beq. to 
the hey aut"^ of the pariche of Sent Nicholas of Ippyswiche 
vi'. vij"? Also I beq. to the pentyng of the archangell 
ther, xl'. Itm. I wyll that if Thomas my son be a 
prest, w4n a yer next after my decesse, than I wyll that 
he syng for me and my frends, be the space of a yer, and 
he for to have for his salary x marc, and if the seyd 
Thomas my son be not a prest than I wyll that a nother 
honest prest syng for me and my frends the term afore- 
seyd and he to have the salary of x marc. Itm. I wyll 
that Johan my wyf have all my lands and tenH in the 
pariche of Sent Nicholas in Ippiswich aforesaid, and my 
free and bond londs in the piche of S*^ Stoke to geve and 
to sell the residew of all my goods afor not bequethed, I 
geve and bequethe to the good disposition of Johan my 
wyff, Thomas my soon, and Thomas Cady, whom I order 
and make my executors to dispose for me as thei shall 
think best to pies allmyghty God and p'°fyt for my 



THE WILL OF THOMAS WOLSEY. 503 

soLill ; and of this my testiment and last wyll I orden 
and make Richard Farrington snp'visour, and he for to 
have for his labour xiij'- iiij''- and yf the seid Richard 
deserve more he for to have more of Johan my yryff. 
Itra. I beq. to the seyd Thomas Cady my executor 
aforeseyd xiij"- iiij''- Yevyn the day yer and place above 
wretyn. 

Prohatiim fmt presens Testamientum apud Gipjvic. 
coram nobis Offic. Cans. Dm. Epi Normc. xj die memis 
Octobris Anno Dm. Millimo cccc-° Ixxsrxvi. In ciijiis 
rei testimonium Sigillum, ^c. 



504 



Fisher, Bishop of Rochester. 



Bishop Fisher's opposition to Henry's divorce, as noticed 
by Cavendish at p. 222, subsequently cost him his head. 
Besides his letter to Wolsey maintaining the validity of 
the marriage with Catherine, published by Fiddes in his 
Appendix to the Life of Wolsey, and in Collier's Ec- 
clesiastical History, vol. 2 Records, he wrote a larger 
discourse in Latin, " De Causa Matrimonii Regis Angliae," 
which was long thought to exist only in MS. But in a 
late sale by public auction in London, of Don Jos Antonio 
Conde's library, a printed copy was purchased for Mr. 
Heber, which appears to have issued from the press at 
Alcala (Complutum) in Spain. The printer of which 
says the manuscript copy was given him by the Arch- 
bishop of Toledo. It is probable that the Spanish agents 
in England contrived to obtain a copy and sent it to the 
emperor. It would not have been allowed to issue from 
the press in England. It is remarkable that Ribadineira 
in his Historia Ecclesiastica de Inglaterra, Madrid, 1588, 
p. 59. rev. mentions that Fisher presented his book to 
the legates. " Los que por parte de la Reyna tratavan 
este negocio eran los mas graves y doctos Teologos y 
Perlados de todo el Reyno y entre ellos Gulielmo Varamo 
Ar^opispo Cantuariense y Primado de Inglaterra, y otros 
cinco Obispos de grande autoridad. Pero el que mas se 
mostrava era Juan Fischero Obispo RofFense, varon por 
cierto exemplar, y no solamente himbrera del reyno de 



BISHOI' I'lSHKK. 505 

Inglaterra, sino de toda la christiandad, espejo de san- 
tidad, sal del pueblo, y verdadero Doctor de la Yglesia. 
El qual salio en publico, y presento a los Legados un 
LiBRO doctissimo que av'ia escrito en defexsion del 
MATRiMoxio del Rey y de la Reyiui, y amonestoles con 
razonamiento gravissimo que no buscassen dificultades 
donde no las avia, ni perniitiessen que se pervirtiesse la 
verdad clara y manifiesta de la sagrada Escritura, y se 
debilitasse la fuer^a de las leyes ecclesiasticas que en esta 
causa eran evidentes, v estavan tan bien entendidas. Que 
pensassen y considerassen atentamente los daiios innu- 
merables que deste divorcio se podian seguir: el odio 
entre el Rey Enrique y Carlos Emperador: las par- 
cialidades de los principes que los seguirian : las guerras 
crueles de fuera y dentro del reyno : y lo que mas im- 
portava, las dissensiones en materia de la Fe, S9ismas, 
heregias, y sectas infinitas. Yo dize por aver estudiado 
esta materia, y gastado en ella mucho tiempo y trabajo, 
oso afirmar que no ay en la tierra potestad que pueda 
deshazer este matrimonio, ni desatar lo que Dios ato. 
Y esto que digo no solamente lo pruevo claramente en 
ESTE LIBRO, con los tcstimonias irrefragable de la sagrada 
Escritura, y de los santos Doctores, pero tanibien cstoy 
aparejado a defenderlo con el derramamiente de mi 
sangre: dixolo RofFense, y como lo dixo, assi cumplio. 
Aviendo hablado de esta manera aquel varon illustre por 
la fama de su doctrina, excellente por la santidad de la 
vida, admirable por la dignidad de Perlado, y por sus 
canas venerable." Ribadineira says that four other 
Doctors, and three Bishops, also offered other books 
which they had composed in defence of the validity of 
the Queen ''s marriage: the proof of this assertion is vet 
to seek. 



506 BISHOP FISHER. 

A manuscript copy of Fisher's book is said to be 
among those presented by the Duke of Norfolk to the 
Royal Society. We may hope to have all that relates to 
this venerable prelate in a more tangible form when the 
Rev. John Lewis's Life of him shall be given to the 
world. I have the satisfaction to add that it has been 
some time at press, under the editorial care of the Rev. 
Theodore Williams of Hendon, and cannot fail to prove 
a valuable addition to Ecclesiastical Biography. 



507 



The Instrument of the Kings gift to the Cardinal after 
his forfeiture hy the prenmnire, which so much re- 
vived his Jiopes, is printed by Rynier and by Fiddes. 
The following is the Schedule appended to it. V. Life, 
p. 291. 



The Money, Goods, and Cattells, given by the King's 
Grace to the Lorde Cardinal!, whereof mention is made 
in the King's Lettres Paten tes hereunto annexed. 

Fyrste in Redy Money, mmm li. 

Item, in Plate, Nyne Thowsand Fyve Hundred Thre- 
score Fyve oz. dim. quarter, at iij' viij'^ the oz. amounteth 
to MDCCLii li. iij' viii''. 

Item, Dyvers Apparell of Houshold, as Hangyngs, 
Beddyng, Napry, and other thyngs, as appereth by the 
Inventorie of the same — amountyng in Value by Estima- 
tion, DCCC li. 

Item, In Horses and Geldyngs Ixxx with their Apparel, 
valued by Estimation, clU. 

Item, in Mules for the Saddell vi. with their Apparell, 
valued by Estimation, lx li. 

Item, in Mules for Carriage vi with their Apparell, 
valued by Estimation, xl li. 

Item, in Lyng on thowsand valued by Estimation, 
XL li. 

Item, in Cod and Haberden viij c valued by Estima- 
tion, XL li. 



508 SCHEDULE. 

Item, in Salt viii Waye valued by Estimation, x I. 

Item, in Implements of the Kytchen as Potts, Pannes, 
Spitts, Peawter Vessell, and other things necessarie for 
the same, valued by Estimation, lxxx I. 

Item, LTi. Oxen valued by Estimation, lxxx I. 

Item, in Muttons lxx valued by Estimation xii I. 

Item, the Apparell of his Body, valued by Estimation, 
ccc /. 

Summa, vi M. ccc. Ixxiv. I. iij*. vii*! ob. 



509 



A Mcmmyall of suche Coimnunicathii as my horde 
Lcgatts grace had rcith the Qiienes Almoner. 

[ex. MS. INTEll AKCHIVA ACADE5IIA CANTABRIG.] 

This interesting paper is published in FidcTes, from the com- 
munication of the learned and Reverend INIr. Baker. It is so 
necessary a supplement to the very interesting interview of the 
two Cardinals with Katherine, given by Cavendish, that I could 
not resolve to withhold it from the reader, who may not chance 
to have ready access to Dr. Fiddes' ponderous volume. 



Fyrst my lordes grace taking for introduction & com- 
mencement of his graces purposes & devyses, excogitate 
by the same for the totall extermination of suche heresies 
as daily encreased in Cambrydge: & that his grace 
thought more convenyent the same to be done by the 
commyssaries then the Bysshops of Rochester or EUe, 
shewed his pleasure & determination was to send him 
thyther, as well for that he was of good reputation & 
credytt there, beinge a M'"^ of a colledge in the same, as 
also for that he had in tymes passed used hym in lyke 
busyness. To which the said M"^ Almoner, fyrst ex- 
cusing the remission of his wonte and bounde offyce & 
dewtie in vysitinge his grace, & most humblie beseching 
the same not to impute yt as preceding of any alienation 
of his trewe hart & devotion he bare unto the same, an- 
swered, that he woold most gladly taike upon him the 
said province & jorney ; desyringe nevertheles his grace 
that he might defer the same untyll 20 dayes were past & 
expired, in which space he might well performe his re- 



510 QUEEN Catherine's objections, etc. 

sidence at Wyndesore. Unto which petycyon his grace 
condescendyng, & takynge the same as a full resolution 
in that behalfe, pretendinge also to have had noon other 
cause or matter unto him, fynished that communicacion, 
and sodenly asked hym what tydyngs he had hard of 
late in the courte ? — 

To this he answered, that he hard noon, but that yt 
was much bruted that a Legatt shuld come hyther into 
England. — Whereuppon his grace inferred what the 
queue thought of his comynge, and for what purpose he 

should come.P To this he said, that she was fully 

perswaded & believed that his comynge was only for the 
decision of the cause of matrimonie dependinge betweene 
her & the kinges highnes. 

Hereupon my lordes grace taking just occasion further 
to entre in this mater, & fyrste makyng rehersall of son- 
drie excellent benefitts with which his grace had indewed 
hym, to thend he shuld doo the kings highnes trewe & 
faithfuU service, & sithe adjuring him upon his fidelitie, 
his othe, & sub sigillo corifessionis, and suche other 
obtestations, to conceale & kepe secrete whatsoever his 
grace shuld then communicate unto hym, and never to 
propale the same to any man lyvyng, oonles he had ex- 
presse commandement by the kyngs highnes or his grace 
so to doo, desyred hym that he wold faithfully entierly 
& hooly declare unto his grace all & singuler soche 
thinges as he knewe of the queues dysposicion, minde, 
sayings, purpose & intent in this mattier. 

To this the said M'^ Almoner fyrst alleging & de- 
clairing of how singuler and perfytt devocyon he was 
towards the kyngs hyghnes and my lords grace, & that 
he wold not oonlybe moost redy to execute his commande- 
ments, but also to kepe secrete suche tilings as his grace 



QUEEX CATHEKIXE's OBJECTIONS, ETC. 511 

shuld wyll him so to doo : answered, that he hard the 
quene oft saie that yf in this cause she myght attaine & 
injoye her naturall defence & justice, she distrusted no- 
thing butt yt should taike suche effecte as shuld be 
acceptable both to God & man. And that for theese 
causes : — 

Fyrst for that it was in the ieies of God moost plaine 
& evydent that she was never knowen of Prince Arthure. 
Secondly, for that neyther of the judges were competent, 
being bothe the kings subjects, beneficed within his 
realme, & delegate from the pope at the contemplation of 
the king, she being never hard, ne admytted to her de- 
fence. Thirdly, for that she ne had ne myght have 
within this realme any indifferent counsaile. Fynally, 
for that she had in Spaine two buUes, the oone beinge 
latter daite than the other, but bothe of suche efFy- 
cacie 8e strengthe, as shulde sone remove all objections 
& cavyllations to be maide to thinfringing of this matry- 
monie. 

To this my lord's grace replying said, he marvelled 
not a lyttle of her so undyscrete ungodly purposes & 
sayings, which caused him to conceyve that she was ney- 
ther of suche perfection, ne vertue as he had thought in 
tymes past to have been in her : & so entering in refuta^ 
tion of all the premisses said : — 

Fyrst, where she saithe that she was not knowen of 
Prince Arthure, verely it is a weake & much unsure 
grownde for her to leane unto, being so urgent & vehe- 
ment presumptions non solum Juris^ sed etiam de Jure 
to the contrarie, which and of congreuence ought to wey 
more in every equall judges brest then her symple allega- 
tion- For it cannot be denied but that bothe lie & she 
was then of suche yers as was raete and hablc to cxplete 



512 QUEEN Catherine's objections, etc. 

that act. It is also verey notarie, that thei dyd lye toge- 
ther, bothe here & in Waylles, by the space of three 
quarters of a yere. Furthermore, nothing was so muche 
desyred of bothe there parentes as the consummation of 
the said act : Insomuche that the counsailers of Ferdi- 
nando being resident here for that purposse dyd send the 
sheets thei ley in, spotted with bloude, into Spaine, in 
full testimonye & prouf therof. The counsaillers also of 
bothe parties moste solemnelye sworne affearme in there 
treaties & saien that the matrymonie was consummate by 
that act. Forthermore the comen voyce through Eng- 
land is, that the said Prince Arthure shuld oftymes boost 
oon mornyng how ofte he had been the nyght before in 
the myddes of Spaine : Insomuche that commonlye his 
so primatiire deathe was imputed onely to nimio coitu. 

Fynally, King Henry Vllth of blessed memorie, wold 
not by certaine space after the deathe of the saide prince, 
permytte or suffer that the kings highnes shuld injoye 
the name & tytle of Prince, onely for that it was 
dowbted by such as than was most abowte the quene 
whether she was conceaved wyth chylde or noo. And 
therefore these presumptions beinge of suche sorte & 
natvire, my lords grace said, the quene shuld do lyke 
neyther wyse ne vartuouse lady to adhere partinacely to 
the contrarie. 

To the seconde his grace replied, saying that if she 
shuld refuse and decline the judgment of those parsons 
unto whome the pope''s holiness had delegated the exa- 
mination of this cause, she shuld not do well, butt so 
doing rather incurr the indignacyon of the see aposto- 
lique, deserve the obloque & hatred of all good chossin 
people & ingenerate in there hartes a perpetuall hate & 
enmitie against her. For sythe the popes holines pro- 



QUEEx Catherine's objections, etc. 513 

ceadythe in thys commyssyon at the intercession or mo- 
tion of no partie, but onely ex mero viofu pastorali 
officio, & sith that his hoHnes notwithstanding he being 
notoriously certyfied tliat they be the kings subjects, & 
benefyced within his realme hatlie approved there par- 
sons as moost mete and worthie to have the hole de- 
cision of this cawse commytted unto them : with that also 
theire parsons be qualyfyed with so hyghe preemynence 
& dignitie, as by the common lawe cannot be refused as 
suspect. Fynailie sythe the same parsons being straitly 
commanded by the king's hyghnes, all affection of mede 
or drede set apart, onely to attend, waye, regard & con- 
syder the justyce of the cawse as they shall therunto an- 
swere on perell of there owne sowles & his dreadfull in- 
dignacion, have no cawse which thei shuld varye or 
deflect their sentence otherwyse than justyce shall require, 
specially in a cawse of suche wayght & importance, & 
wherin they for unrighteouse judgement shuld acquire 
nothing els but theire owne dampnation, eternall igno- 
minie & indignation of theire prince : yf she shuld refuse 
suche parsons as suspect, it might well be saide that she 
geveth tytles honour to the auctoritie of the churche, & 
that this realme were marvelouslie destytute of men of 
sincere leamyng & conscience, to the great slaunder of 
the same. 

And fynally his grace said, that yf this exception 
shuld be admytted as suffycyent cawse of recusation, for 
that they be benefyced by the kings hyghnes, than this 
cawse of matrymonie myght nowhere be ventylated or 
dyscussed within Christindone, for that there are no 
parsons of auctorite & lemyng in any regyon out of 
this realme, againe whome the king's highncs might not 
alleadgo, in lyke manner, lykc cawse of recusation & 

1, 1. 



514 auEEN cathekine's objections, etc. 

suspicion. The pope's holines & the holle clargie of 
Ytallie, Flaunders, Spaine, Denmarke & Scotlande, being 
now eyther confederate or in thraldome & captivitie of 
the emperor''s tyranny. 

To the third, concerning counsaillors to be retained 
on her behalf, my lords grace saide, that although he 
was ryght well assured of the kings singuler propencyon 
& inclination to justyce, & that above all things his 
pleasour was justyce shuld be equally mynistred to 
eyther parte in this cawse, being also never wylling or in 
mynde at any tyme, but that she shuld have aide and 
assistance of so well lerned men, so wyse, and of so good 
conscience, as might any be founde within this realme : 
yet his grace thought that consydering the nature of this 
cawse to be of suche sorte, as necessarily impliethe the 
hole tytle of succession of this realme, lyke as yt were 
not expedyent, ne myght in any wyse be sufFred withowt 
great dangler & perell which might therby ensue, to 
maike any aliene or straunger previe herunto, specially 
the Spaniards having now intelhgence with the King of 
Scotts ; So his grace thought that the quene wold not 
insyst in so fryvolous petition, which might never be 
graunted unto her, but be content to admytt and adhybyt 
suche lerned men as be here in this region her counsail- 
lors, namely suche as by theire othes solempnly maide & 
vowed, & by expresse commandement et optima gratia 
of the king's highnes, shuld withowt frawde or corruption 
shew unto her theire sentence and openions: and de- 
syring the contrarie hereof his grace said she shuld doe 
nothing but declare her owne sensual 1 affection to sett 
forthe that whiche, all due prouf, bothe by Gods lawe & 
mans law hath justly condemned. And thus ended my 
lords graces talke with M"^ Almoner. 



QUEKX CAT1IL;HI\l\s OBJKl TION'S, KTC. 515 

*^* Robert Shorton S. T P. then master of Pem- 
broke Hall and canon of Windsor was almoner to the 
queen, preferrM by her to the deanery of Stoke Suffolk, 
the same that was intornuncius cardinal! de evocandis 
viris doctis Cantabrigia Oxoniam, and sometime dean of 
the cardinal's chapel. 



516 



Ithierary of Cardinal Wolseys last Journey Northward^ 
. 1530. 



He set out from Richmond at the begimiing of Passion 
Week, but we know not on what precise day. The 
first days journey was to Hendon in Middlesex, where 
he lodged for the night at the house of the abbot of 
Westminster. 

The next day he removed to a place called the Rye, 
the abode of the Lady Parry. 

The third day to Royston, where he lodged in the 
monastery. 

The fourth day to Huntingdon, where he sojourned 
for the night in the abbey. 

On Palm Sunday he reached the Abbey of Peterbo- 
rough, which he made his abode until the Thursday in 
Easter week, his train for the most part being at board 
wages in the towiu Here he celebrated Pahn Sunday, 
going with the monks in procession, and bearing his 
palm with great humihty. He kept his Maunday on 
the Thursday so named, with the accustomed ceremonies 
and bounties to the poor. On Easter Sunday he also 
went in procession in his cardinal's habit, and performed 
the service of high mass very devoutly. 

From Peterborough he went to visit his old friend 
Sir William Fitzwilliams, about four miles from thence, 
who received him with great joy and hospitality. He 



wolsey's last journey. 517 

went there on Thursday in Easter week and remained 
until the Monday following, on which day he went to 
Stamford and lay there that night. 

On Tuesday he went to Grantham, where he lodged 
in the house of a gentleman named Hall. 

On Wednesday he removed to Newark, where he 
rested in the castle. 

On Thursday to Southwell, where was a palace be- 
longing to his see of York, but this being out of repair 
he was lodged in the house of one of the prebends. At 
Whitsuntide he removed into the palace, keeping a 
noble table, where he was visited by the chief persons of 
the country . 

At the latter end of grease time he removed to Scroby, 
another house belonging to his see of York, being as 
much regretted at Southwell as he was greeted at Scroby. 
In his way to Scroby he took Welbeck or Newsted 
Abbey, from thence to Rufford Abbey to dinner, and 
slept at Blythe Abbey, reaching Scroby on the following 
day, where he remained until Michaelmas. 

About Michaelmas day he removed to his seat of 
Cawood Castle, twelve miles (said by Cavendish to be 
only seven) from York, and in his way thither he lay 
two nights and a day at St. OswaWs Abbey, where he 
held a confirmation. He lay at Cawood long after, says 
Cavendish, with much honour. 

His clergy here waited upon him to take order for his 
inthronization, which he seems to have desired should be 
conducted with as little pomp as possible. The ceremony 
was fixed to take place on the Monday after All Hallown 
Tide, but he was arrested on the Friday before (fourth 
of November) at Cawood, by the Earl of Northumber- 
land and Mr. Welsh. 



518 wolsey's last journey. 

They left Cawood with him in custody on Sunday the 
sixth. The first night he was lodged in the Abbey of 
Pomfret. 

The next day [7'''] they removed to Doncaster. 

The third day [8*] to Sheffield Park, a seat of the 
Earl of Shrewsbury (afterwards appointed by Queen 
Elizabeth for the meeting of her and Mary Queen of 
Scots, which never took place), where he continued 
eighteen days, being there seized with the flux. Here 
Sir William Kingston the Constable of the Tower came 
to take charge of his person, and on Thursday the 
twenty-fourth of November they set forward, the car- 
dinal hardly able to sit upright on his mule. They 
passed the night at Hardwicke upon Line in Notting- 
hamshire. (See note on the Life, p. 379-) 

On Friday the twenty-fifth they rode to Nottingham, 
and lodged there that night. 

On Saturday the twenty-sixth at night, they reached 
Leicester Abbey ; he had many times like to have fallen 
from his mule by the way ; telling the abbot as he en- 
tered he had come to lay his bones among them. He 
gradually became worse, and died at eight o'clock in the 
morning of Tuesday November the twenty-ninth. 



519 



Beside the solemn mass performed by Cardinal Wolsey upon the ra- 
tification of peace between the French and English kings, which is 
described at p. 190 of the Life, he officiated at another great cere- 
mony of thanksgiving upon occasion of the Pope's deliverance from 
captivity. The particulars of which are preserved in the archives of 
the Herald's College in an ancient book written by Thomas Walle, 
Windsor Herald, and published by Dr. Fiddes at p. 179 of his 
Collections. For the convenience of the reader who may not possess 
Dr. Fiddes's Life of Wolsey, I have thought it desirable to place 
this curious relation in my Appendix. 



The Camming' and Reserving of' tltc Lord Cardinall into 
Poxdesfor the Escaping of Pope Clement VII. A. D. 
1527. A" Regni Henrici VIII. xix«'. 



Memorandum that the fifth day of January beyng Sun- 
day even in the year aforesaid, the Lord Thomas Wolcy 
Cardinall of Yorke &c. landyd betweene eight of the 
clocke and nyne in the raorninge at the Black fryars at 
London, with great company of noblemen and gentle- 
men, where met with him the Embassadours of the Pope, 
of the Emperour, the Frenche kinge, of Venise, of Flo- 
rence, of Millain. And so procedyd on horseback unto 
Powles church dore, where they did alight. And ther 
the officers of armes longing unto the king gave there 
theire attendance, and at his ahghting put on there 
sootes of armes. And here was also foure of the doctors, 
prebendarys of the sayd Powles, in copes and grey amys, 
which bare a rich canape over him of cloth of gould. 
And so the lord cardinall procedyd, havyng themperours 
embassadour on his right hand, and the 1^'renche kinges 



520 CEREMONY AT ST. PAUl's. 

[embassadour] on his lifte hand, untill he came to the 
arches where was prepared a bank with quyshions and 
carpets, where the said Lord kneled, and there mete him, 
in Pontificahbus, the Bushop of London, the Bushop of 
St. Asse [Asaph] which censyd him : And the Bushop 
of Lincoln, the Bushop of Bath, the Bushop of LlandaiF, 
the Lord Priour of Westm'", the Priour of St. Saviours, 
th Abbots of Stratford, and of Towerhill, the Priour of 
Christ-churche, of St. Mary Spytell, with other to the 
some of xvi miters. And so the procession of the hole 
quyer procedyd fourth, havyng thambassadours with him 
as afore, up to the quier, and so to the high aultier, wher, 
his oblation doon, he went with him into his travers, and 
duringe that the howre was a singing he was revestyd in 
Pontificalibus, and then he with all the other prelats, the 
quiere of Powles and his hole quiere, with his suit of rich 
copes, went in procession within the said church, the 
officers of arms about him, and next after him thembassa- 
dours, and then the Mayor of London, and the other 
estates and gentlemen, with the aldermen of the cittie. 

The procession doon, the Masse of the Trinity was 
begun, songen by the Byshop of London ; the Priour of 
St. Mary Spittell Gospeller ; the Priour of Christ Church 
Pistoler. The masse doon the lord cardinall with the 
other prelatz went unto the quyer dore, where Doctor 
Capon declaryd the calamities, miseries, and the oppro- 
brious deeds and works, with the great suffrance that 
our mother the Holy Churche hath suifryd, not allonly 
by the Lutherian sorte, which was lyke to have sortyd 
to an ungracious effecte ; but also now of late of the 
great unhappy delings of the Paynymes, and violators of 
our Christien faith, the men of warr belonging to the em- 
peror. In the sorrowful destruction of Rome, where they, 



CEKEMOXY AT ST. PAUl's. 521 

like miscreantz, nothing regarding nother God nor sliamc, 
violentlye tooke and by force imprisoned our Holy Father 
the Pope, the which now of late by the helpe of our Lord 
God, which se his churche in p'dicion, did releive hit 
againe ; insomuch that oiu' said Holy Father is escapyd 
their hands, wherfore the Lord Legats grace by the kings 
commandement hath here caused as this day, this noble 
assemble to be had, to the end that lauds praysings and 
congratulations might be gyven by all true Christien 
people unto Almighty God, and the hole company of 
Heaven. 

And thus doing, the said lord cardinal! did give his 
benediction to all the people. Which Doctor Capon 
sayd, much more than I can reherse, and this doon the 
sayd lord retournyd to the aultier wher the lord cardinal 
began Te Deum, the which was solempnly songen with 
the kingis trumpetts and shalmes, as well Inglishmen as 
Venysians, which doon every man repayred home. And 
the Lord Legat Cardinall went to his place to dynner, 
and the embassadours with him. 

Copied out of an ancient hook written hy Thomas 
Walk Windsore, and afterwards Garter^ folio 126. 
Examined hy us, 

WILLIAM LE NEVE. 

L. YORKE. 

DANCER HANCOCKE. 



522 



Tlte Ceremonial of receiving the CardinaVs Hat, sent by 
the Pope to Wolsey. Extracted from a MS. in the 
Herald's Office. Ceremon. vol. 3. p. 219. 

[from fiddes' collections. See p. 92.] 



In the yeare of our Lord 1515, the 15"' daie of November, 
being Thursdaie and the seaventh yeare of our sovereigne 
lord King Henry the Eight, the said prothonitary enter^'d 
into London, which before according was mett bothe at 
the sea side, likewise at Canterbviry and at Rochester 
with the bishop of the same, and at Black Heath theare 
mett with him the Reverend Father in God the Bishop 
of Lincohie, the Earle of Essex, and many other gent, of 
great honour, both spiritual and temporal, and soe pro- 
ceeded through London, the Bishop of Lincolne ridinge 
on the right hand [of] the said prothonitary and the 
Earle of Essex on his left hand, having with them sixe 
horses or above, and they all well beseeming and keeping 
a good order in their proceeding. The Maior of London 
with the aldermen on horseback in Cheapside, and the 
crafte stoode in the streets after there custome : and when 
the said Hatt was comen to the Abbey of Westminster, 
wheare at the north door of the same was redie th Abbot 
and eight abbotts besides him, all in pontificalibus, and 
honorabilie received it ; and in like sort the same con- 
veied to the high alter, whearuppon it was sett. The 
Sundaie next following, the eightenth daie, the most 
Reverend Father in God my Lord Cardinal, well ac- 
companied with noble and gentlemen, both spiritual and 



THE CEREMONIAL, ETC. 523 

temporal, being on horseback, as knights, barons, bishops, 
earles, dukes, and arch-bishops, all in due order pro- 
ceeded from liis place betwixt eight and nyne of the clocke 
to the abbey ; and at the dore beforesaid, his grace with 
all the noble men descended from their horses and went 
to the high alter, wheare on the south side was ordeyned 
a goodlie travers from my Lord Cardinal, and when his 
grace was comen into it, imediatelie began the Masse 
of the Holy Ghost, songen by the Arch-bishop of Can- 
terbury, the Bishop of Lincoln Gospeller, and the Bishop 
of Excester Epistoler, th Arch Bishops of Aniiachan and 
Dublyn, the Bishops of Winchester, Duresme, Norwiche, 
Ely, and Landaffe, and viii abbotts, as of Westminster, 
Saint Albans, Bury, Glastonbury, Reading, Glocestre, 
Winche-Combe, Tewkesbury, and the Prior of Coventrie, 
all in pontificalibus. The Bishop of Rochester was crosier 
to my Lord of Canterbury during the mass. M' Doctor 
Collet, Deane of Powles, made a brief collation or pro- 
position, in which especially he touched thre things, That 
is to witt, the name of a cardinal, and wheareof it is said, 
alsoe the highe honour and dignitie of the same, and as 
keeping the articles due and belonging to it, and by what 
meanes he obtained to this high honour chieflie, as by his 
own merits, theare naminge divers and sundrie vertues that 
he hath used, which have been the cause of his high and 
joyous promotion to all the realme. The second cause 
of his promotion Avas through our sovereigne lord the 
king, for the greate zeale and favour that our holy father 
the pope hath to his gi-ace. The second thing, is touch- 
ing the dignitie of a prince as having power judicial. 
The third, of a bishop signifying both the old and newe 
lawe, and havinge the power of them, and also the highe 
and great power of a cardinal, and ho wo he betokeneth 



5S4 THE CEREMONIAL OF 

the free beames of wisdome and charitie, which the 
apostles received of the Holie Ghoste on Whitsundaie, 
and a cardinal representeth the order of seraphin, which 
continually brenneth in the love of the glorious Trinity ; 
and for thies considerations a cardinal is onelie apparrelled 
Avith redd, which collour onelie betokeneth nobleness; 
and howe these three estates before named be collocated 
and placed in heaven, also he exhorteth theare my lord 
cardinal, saying to him in this wise: Non magnitudo 
superbum extollat nobiUtatissimum honorisq ; dignitate. 
But remember that our Saviour in his o\vne person said 
to his disciples, AW veni ministrari, sed ministrare ; <§• 
qui minor inter vos hie maior regno Celorum, et qui se 
exaltat humiliabilitur, ^ qui se humiliat exaltdbitnr ; my 
lord cardinal, be glad and enforce your selfe always to 
doe and execute righteousness to riche and poore, and 
mercy with truth ; and desired all people to praie for 
him that he might the rather observe these poynts, and 
in accomplishinge the same what his reward shall be in 
the Kingdom of Heaven ; and so ended. The Bull was 
read by Doctor Vecy, Deane of the King''s Chappell, and 
Excestre, and at Agnus Dei came forth of his travers my 
Lord Cardinal and kneeled before the middle of the high 
alter, wheare for a certayne tyme he laye gravelling, his 
hood over his head, during benedictions and prayers, 
concerning the high Creation of a Cardinal, said over 
him by the Right Reverend Father in God the Arch- 
Bishop of Canterburie, which alsoe sett the hatt uppon 
his head. Then Te Deum was sung. All service and 
ceremonies finished, my Lord came to the doore before- 
named, led by the Dukes of Norffolk and Suffolk, where 
his grace with all the noble men ascended uppon their 
horses, and in good order proceeded to his place by 



RECEIVING THE CARDIXAl/s HAT. 525 

Charing Crosse, next before him the crosse, preceeding 
it the mace such as belongeth a cardinal to have, and 
then my Lord of Canterbury, liavinge no crosse borne 
before him, with the Bishop of Winchester, before them 
the Duke of Norffolk and Suffolk together, and in like 
order the residue of the noblemen, as the Bishop of 
Durham with the Popes Orator, then the Marquess 
Dorsett with the Earle of Surrey, the Earle of Shrews- 
burie, the Earle of Essex, the Earle of Wiltshire, the 
Earle of Derby, the Lord of St. Johns, the Lord Fitz- 
water, the Lord of Burgaveny, the Lord Dawbeny, the 
Lord Willoughby, the Lord Hastings, the Lord Ferrers, 
the Lord Lattimer, the Lord Cobham, and the Lord 
Darcey, Sir Hemy Marney, Sir John Peche, Sir Thomas 
a Parr, Sir Nicholas Vaux, and so all other Banneretts, 
Knyghts, and Gentlemen before, after their degrees, and 
following his grace the Arch-bishop of Armachan and 
Dublyn, the Bishops of Lincolne and Norwiche, Excestre, 

Ely, and Rochester, and the , after them, my 

Lords Cardinals place, being well sorted in every behalfe, 
and used with goodlie order, the hall and chambers gar- 
nished very sumptuouslie with riche arras, a great feast 
kept as to suche a highe and honourable creation be- 
longeth. At the which were the King & Qucene and the 
French Queene, with all the noblemen above specified, 
alsoe present at the creation the Lord Fineaux, the Lord 
Read, the Barons of the Exchequer, with other Judges 
and Serjeants at Law. 



POEMS. 



GEORGE CAVENDISH. 



The Poems of George Cavendish, which accompany the 
Life of Wolsey in the Original Autograph Manuscript, 
consist of a series of Visions upon the Fortunes and Fall 
of the most eminent Persons of his time. 

The reader is here presented with the Prologue ; the 
Legend of Wolsey ; and the Author's Address to his 
Book ; with two stanzas from a long Epitaph on Queen 
Mary. This specimen, it is presumed, will be deemed 
sufficient to convey an idea of the style of Cavendish in 
verse. It should be remembered, that the Mirror for 
Magistrates^ which subsequently became so popular, had 
not then been given to the world. Cavendish, therefore, 
may have formed his plan from Lydgate's Fall of Princes. 
Traces of the same kind of versification, which is evi- 
dently intended to depend more on rhythmical cadence 
than the number of feet in the verse, will be found in 
Skelton, in Stephen Hawes, Nicholas Grimoald, and 
other contributors to Tottel's Miscellany of Songes and 
Sonnettes. In the MS. copy there is no punctuation ; 
but instead we have the mark of the pause or caesura in 
the middle and occasionally at the end of the line ; as 
may be remarked in the example on the plate of fac- 
sim iles. 



PROLOUG DE L'AUCTOR G. C. 



In the monyth of June, I lyeng sole alon 

Under the umber l of an oke with bowes pendant, 

Whan Phebus in Geniynys had his course overgon 

And entered Cancer, a sygne retrogradant. 

In a mean measure his beams radyant, 

Approaching Leo, than mused I in mynd 

Of fykkeUness of Fortune and the course of kynd2 ; 

How some are by fortune exaUed to riches. 

And often such as most unworthy be ; 

And some oppressed in langor and sykness, 

Some wayhng, lakkyng welthe, by wretched povertie 

Some in bayle and bondage, and some at hbertie : 

With other moo gystes ^ of fortune varyable ; 

Some pleasant, some mean, and some onprofitable. 

But after dewe serche and better advisement, 
I knewe by Reason that oonly God above 
Rewlithe thos thyngs, as is most convenyent, 
The same devysing to man for his behove"* ; 
Wherefore Dame Reason did me persuade, and move 



• umher, i. e. shade, nnihre, Fr. ^ kynd, is nature. 

^ g'.yf^e,?, or ge.sts, are actions. 

■» For his behove, for his behoof or advantage. 



528 



To be content with my small estate, 
And in this matter no more to vestigate. 

Whan I had debated all thyng in my mynd, 

I well considered myne obscure blyndness ; 

So that non excuse could I see or fynd, 

But that my tyme I spent in idelnes ; 

For this me thought, and trew it is doughtles. 

That since I ame a reasonable creature, 

I owght my reason and wytt to put in ure^. 

Than of what matter myght I devise to wright. 
To use my tyme and wytte to excercyse, 
Sithe most men have no pleasour or delight 
In any history, without it sownd to vice : 
Alass ! shold I than, that ame not young attise 
With lewed ballatts, faynt harts to synne, 
Or flatter estatts^ some favor of them to wynne. 

What than shall I wright ? the noble doughtyness 
Of estatts that used is now a dayes ? 
I shall than lak matter ; for gredy covetousnes 
Of vayne riches, whiche hathe stopt all the wayes 
Of worthy chy vallry, that now dayly sore dekayes : 
And yet thoughe some behave them nobly. 
Yet some ther be that dayly doth the contrarye. 



5 To put in ure, i, e. to put in use. Thus in Ferrex and Porrex, 
by Sackville : 

And wisdome willed me without protract 
In speedie wise to put the same in ure. 

^ estatts, i. e. nobles, persons of rank or great estate. 



Ev geougt: cavexdish. 5fH) 

For some lovyth meat fynne and delicious, 

And some baudye? brotlies, as their cducasion hath be ; 

So some lovethe virtue, and some tales vicious : 

Sewerly suche tales get ye non of nie, 

But to eschewe all ociosite, 

Of Fortune''s fykellnes hereafter shall I wright. 

How greatest estatts she overthrowyth by nivgiit. 

Thoughe I onworthe this tragedy do begyne, 
Of pardon I pray the reders in meke wyse ; 
And to correct where they se fault therein. 
Reputing it for lak of connyng exercyse. 
The cause that moved me to this enterprise 
Especyally was that all estatts myght see 
What it is to trust to Fortune's mutabylitie. 

With pen and ynke I toke this work in hand, 

Redy to wright the deadly dole and whofull playnt 

Of them whose fall the world doth understand ; 

AVhich for feare made my heart to faynt : 

I must wright playn ; colours have I none to paynt ; 

But termes rude their dolours to compile ; 

An wofull playnt must have an wofull style. 

To whome therefore for helpe shall I nowe call ? 
Alas ! Caiiope my calling will utterly refuse ; 
For mornyng dities and woo of Fortune''s falle 



7 This word was used by our ancestors to signify any tiling 
greasy or Jilt hj ; the revolutions of language have at length con- 
fined it to one only of its ancient acceptations, that of obaanil;/. 

M M 



530 POEMS. 

Caliope dyd never in hir dyties use ; 
Wherefore to hir I might my self abuse : 
Also the Musis that on Parnasus syng 
Suche warblyng dole did never temper stryng. 

Now to that Lord whose power is celestial!, 

And gwydyth all thyng of sadnes and of blysse, 

With humble voyce to the I crie and call, 

That thou wouldest direct my sely^ pen in this : 

For, wantyng of thy helpe, no marvel thoughe I mysse ; 

And by thy grace, though my style be rude. 

In sentence playne I may full well conclude. 

Nowe by thy helpe this hystory I will begyn. 

And from thelFect varie nothing at all ; 

For if I shold, it ware to me great synne 

To take uppon me a matter so substancyall, 

So way tie, so necessarie, of fame perpetual 1 : 

And thus to be short, oon began to speke 

With deadly voyce, as thoughe his hart wold breke. 



selij, i. e. ihjiple. 



KJNIS QUOD G. C. 



UY GEORGE CAVENDISH. 531 

LE HISTORYE 
CARDINALIS EBORACENSIS. 



Fortune ! (quoth he) shold I on the complayn, 
Or of my negligence, that I sustcyn this smart ? 
Thy doble visage hathe led me to this trayne ; 
For at my begynnyng thou dydst ay take my part, 
Untill ambysion had puffed up my hart 

With vainglory, honor, and usurped dignytie, 
Forgettyng cleane my naturall mendycitie. 

From povertie to plentie, which now I see is vayn, 

A cardinal I was, and legate de latere, 

A byshope and archbysshope, the more to crease my gayn 

Chauncellor of Englond, Fortune by hir false flatterie 

Dyd me advance, and gave me such auctorytie 

That of hyghe and low I toke on me the charge, 

All England to rewle, my power extendyd large. 

Whan Fortune with favor had set me thus aloft, 

1 gathered me riches ; suffisance could not content ; 
My fare was superfluous, my bed was fyne and soft ; 
To have my desiers I past not what I spent : 

In yerthe, such abondauncc Fortune had me lent, 
Yt was not in the world that I could well requier, 
But Fortune strayt wayes did graunt me my desier. 

M M 2 



532 



My byldyngs somptious, the rofFes with gold and byse^ 
Shone lyke the sone in myd day spere, 
Craftely entaylledl as connyng could devise, 
With images embossed, most lively did appere ; 
Expertest artificers that ware both farre and nere. 
To beautyfie my howssys, I had them at my will : 
Thus I wanted nought my pleasures to fullfill. 

My galleries ware fayer both large and long, 
To walke in them whan that it lyked me best ; 
My gardens sweet, enclosed with walles strong, 
Embanked with benches to sytt and take my rest ; 
The knotts so enknotted, it cannot be exprest^, 
With arbors and alyes so pleasant and so dulce. 
The pestylent ayers with flavors to repulse. 

My chambers garnysht with arras fynne, 
Importyng personages of the ly velyest kynd : 
And whan I was disposed in them to dynne, 
My clothe of estate there ready did I fynd, 
Furnysshed complett according to my mynd ; 
The subtyll perfumes of muske and sweet amber, 
There wanted non to perfume all my chamber. 



-' gold and hyse, is gold and purple. 

' entayUed, i. e. carved, vide p. 300. 

2 This is no uninteresting picture of the seclusion desired by our 
ancestors in the old geometric style of gardening. Of this curious 
knot-garden of Wolsey the remains are still to be seen at Hampton 
Court, the raaze there forming part of it. 



BY GKOKGE CAVKNDISH. 533 

Plate of all sorts most curiously wrought, 

Of facions new, I past not of ^ the old, 

No vessell but sylver before me was brouglit. 

Full of dayntes vyands, the some cannot be told ; 

I dranke my wynne alwayes in sylver and in gold : 

And daylye to serve me, attendyng on my table, 

Servaunts I had bothe worshipfull and honorable. 

My crosses twayne of sylver long and greate, 

That dayly byfore me ware carried hyghe, 

Upon great horses, opynly in the strete, 

And massie pillars gloriouse to the eye. 

With pollaxes gylt that no man durst come nyghe 

My presence, I was so pryncely to behold, 

Ridyng on my mule trapped in sylver and gold. 

My legantyne prerogatyve was myche to myn avayle. 
By vertue wherof I had thys high preemynence : 
All vacant benefices I did them strayt retaylle, 
Presentyng than my clarke, as sone as I had intellygence : 
I prevented the patron, ther vaylled"* no resistence ; 
All bysshopes and prelates durst not oons denay, 
They dough ted so my power, they myght not dysobey. 

Thus may you see how I to riches did attayne, 
And with suffisaunce my mynd was not content ; 
Whan I had most, I rathest^ wold complayne; 
For lake of good, alas ! how I was blent ^ ! 
Where shall my gatheryngs and good be spent ? 



" I past nut of, i. e. I cared not for. 

* vaylled, availed. '' raihext, i. c. soonest. '' blent, i. c. bluui. 



534 



Some oon, perchance, shall me thereof dyscharge, 
Whom I most hate, and spend it owt at large 7. 

Sytting in Jugement, parcyall ware my doomes; 

I spared non estatte, of hyghe or low degree ; 

I preferred whom me lyst, exaltyng symple gromes 

Above the nobles ; I spared myche the spritualtie. 

Not passyng myche on the temperaltie ; 

Promotyng such to so hyghe estate 

As unto prynces wold boldly say chek-mate. 

Oon to subdewe that did me always favor. 

And in that place another to avaunce, 

Ayenst all trewthe, I did my busy labor, 

And, whilest I was workyng witty whiles in Fraunce, 

I was at home supplanted, where I thought most ai 

suraunce : 
Thus who by fraud fraudelent is found, 
Fraud to the defrauder will aye rebound. 

Who workyth fraude often is disceyved ; 

As in a myrror, ye may behold in me ; 

For by disceyt, or I had it perceyved, 

I was disceyved ; a guerdon mete parde 

For hyme that wold, ayenst all equite, 

Dyscey ve the innocent, that innocent was in deede ; 

Therefore Justice of Justice ayenst me must proceede. 



7 This is a version of the concluding passage of the Life of the 
Cardinal. 



BY GEORGE CAVENDISH. 535 

For by my subtill dealyng thus it came to passe, 
Cheafely disdayned, for whome I toke the payn ; 
And than to repent it was too late, alas ! 
My purpose I wold than have changed fayn ; 
But it wold not be, I was perceived playn : 
Thus Venus the goddesse that called is of love 
Spared not with spight to biyng me from above. 

Alas ! my soverayn Lord, thou didest me avaunce, 
And settest me uppe in thys great pompe and pryde. 
And gavest to me thy realme in governaunce ; 
Thy pryncely will why did I set aside. 
And followed myn own, consideryng not the tyde, 
How after a floode an ebbe comyth on a pace ? 
That to consider, in my tryhumphe I lakked gi-ace. 

Now fykkell Fortune tomed hathe hir whele, 

Or I it wyst s, all sodenly, and do^vn she did me cast ; 

Down was my hed, and upward went my hele. 

My hold faylled me that I thought suer and fast ; 

I se by experience, hir favor doth not last ; 

For she full low now hath brought me under, 

Though I on hir complayn, alas ! it is no wonder. 

I lost myne honor ; my treasure Avas me beraft ; 
Fayn to avoyd, and quykly to geve place, 
Symply to depart, for me nothing was laft. 
Without penny or pound I lived a certyn space, 
Untill my soverayn Lord extendyd to me his grace ; 



ii'ijsl, i. c. knew. 



536 



Who restored me sufficient, if I had byn content 
To mayntayn myn estate, both of lond and rent. 

Yet, notwithstanding, my corage was so hault, 
Dispight of mine enemy es rubbed me on the gall;, 
Who conspyred together to take me with asault ; 
They travelled without triall to geve me a fall : 
I therefore entendyd to trie my frends all ; 
To forrayn potentates wrott my letters playn, 
Desireng their ayd, to restore me to favor againe. 

Myn ennemyes, perceiving, caught thereof dysdayn, 
Doughtyng the daynger, dreamed on the dought ; 
In councell consulting, my sewte to restrayn, 
Accused me of treason, and brought it so about 
That, travelling to my trial, or I could trie it owte, 
Death with his dart strake me for the nons 9, 
In Leicester, full lowe, where nowe lyeth my boons. 

Loo, nowe you may see what it is to trust 
In worldly vanyties that voydy th with the wynd ; 
For death in a moment consumeth all to dust : 
No honor, no glory, that ever man cowld fynd. 
But Tyme with hys tyme puttythe all out of mynd 
For Tyme in breafe tyme duskyth the hystory 
Of them that long tyme lyved in glory. 

Where is my tombe that I made for the nons, 
Wrought of fynne copper, that cost many a pound. 



^ for the iwnsi or nonce, for the purpone. 



ItY C.EOltCK CAVEXDISII. O.'JT 

To coLiclie in my carion and my rotten boons ? 

All is but vayn-glory, now have I found, 

And small to the purpose, when I am in the ground ; 

What doth it avayllc me, all that I have, 

Seyng I ame deade and laved in my grave ? 

Farewell Hampton Court, whos founder I was ; 
Farewell Westminster Place, now a palace royall ; 
Farewell the Moore, let Tynnynainger l passe ; 
Farewell, in Oxford, my college cardynall ; 
Farewell, in Ipsewich, my schole gramaticall : 
Yet oons farewell, I say, I shall you never see ; 
Your somptious byldyng, what now avayllethe me ? 

What avayllyth my great aboundance ? 
AVhat is nowe left to helpe me in this case ? 
Nothing at all but dompe in the daunce, 
Among deade men to tryppe on the trace : 
And for my gay housis now have I this place 
To lay in my karcas, wrapt in a sheete, 
Knytt with a knott at my hed and my feete. 

What avayleth now my feather bedds soft. 
Sheets of Raynes 2, long, large, and wide. 



• This is Tittenhanirer, in Hertfordshire, which Wolsey lield as 
Abbot of St. Albans ; there was formerly a palace belonging to the 
Abbots of St. Albans there. 

^ Sheets of Raijnes. The fine linen used by our ancestors is 
frequently called cloth of Raynes. Rennes in Brittanny was for- 
merly celebrated for its manufacture of fine linen. In the enu- 
meration of the cardinal's treasures at Hampton Court, many pieces 



538 POEMS. 

And dyvers devyses of clothes chaynged oft ; 
Or vicious chapleyns walking by my syde, 
Voyde of all vertue, fullfilled with pryde, 
Which hathe caused me, by report of suche fame. 
For ther myslyvyng to have an yll name. 

This is my last complaynt, I can say you no more. 
But farewell my servant that faythefuU hathe be ; 
Note well these words, quod he, I pray the therfore, 
And wright them thus playn, as I have told them the. 
All which is trewe, thou knowest well, parde ; 
Thou faylledst me not, untill that I dyed. 
And now I must depart, I maye no longer byde ! 



of cloth of Raynes are mentioned. In the Old Phrase Book, 
entitled Vulgaria, by W. Horraan, 1519, is the following passage : 
'' He weareth a shurte of Raynis whan curser wold serve him." 



BY GEORGE CAVENDISH. 539 

SPECIMEN 

OF 

AN EPITAPHE ON QUENE MARIE. 

BY GEORGE CAVENDISH : 

CONSISTING OF TIFTEEN STANZAS. 



DiscEND from hevyn, O Muse Melpomene, 
Thou mournfull goddesse, ^vith thy sisters all. 
Passe in your playnts the wofull Niobe, 
Tome musyke to mone with teeres eternall, 
Blake be your habetts, dyme, and funeral ; 
For deathe hathe bereft, to our great dolour, 
Mary our mastres, our quene of honor. 

Our quene of honor, compared aptly 
To Veuitas victrix, daughter of Tyme, 
By God assisted, amased in armye. 
When she a virgin cleare, without cryme, 
By ryght, without might, did happely clyme 
To the stage royal, just inheritor, 
Proclaymed Mary our quene of honor. 



540 



TH'AUCTOR TO HIS BOOKE. 



Crepe forth e, my boke, under the proteccion 
Of suche as have bothe learnyng and eloquence ; 
Humbly submyttyng the to the correccion 
Of worthy writers of virtuous excellence, 
Besechyng all them, of ther benygn pacience 
To take the meanyng, however the matter frame. 
Of this thyn auctor, abasshed of his name. 

For, first of all, whan I do behold 
Of famous writers the goodly circumstance. 
My quaking hand my penne unnethe can hold. 
So dombe I ame of doctryn, lame of experience, 
Stakeryng in style, onsavery of sentence, 
Save oonly hope, that saithe withouten fayll. 
That my well meanyng shall quytt my travayll. 

Thus, not presumyng of learnyng ne eloquence, 
Hope made me shove the boote from the shore ; 
Desyryng no thyng for my fare or expence. 
But only good wyll ; I aske no more : 
And for \ the hurt of envy that myght rore, 



3 " And for the hurt of envy/' i. e. against the hurt of envy. 
Envy being the cause of his seeking to shrowd himself. 



BY GEORGE CAVEXDISH. 541 

I shall set my slirowd '- for my defence, 
Under the mantell of well wyllyng audyence. 

And principally this my work for to assist, 

I humbly beseche that Lord that is eternal 1 

To defend my penne that wrott this with my fist, 

To be my savegard, my stafFe, and my wall ; 

And consequently for feare least I shold fall 

In the daynger of the learned ^ and honorable sort, 

I pray them all my lamenes to support. 

Least perchaunce the pleasaunt floode do faylle 
Of witty writing or sugred eloquence, 
Followe, therfore, good wyll at the boots taylle, 
Me to preserve in the waves of ignorance, 
Socoured by hope and gentill sufferance : 
Nowe hale uppe, skuller ; God graunt me wynd, 
And Jhesu defend me to my lives end. 

Whan thou,^my boke, comest into the prease 
Botha of the wyse and learned multitude, 
To excuse thyn auctor thou canst do no lesse. 



4 A shroivd signified a shield or buckler, and metaphorically any 
kind of defence, coverture, or place of protection. 

7 " least I shold fall 

In the daynger of the learned and honorable sort." 

That is, " lest I should encounter their censure, or fall into the con- 
trol of their severe judgment." The phrase has its origin from the 
barbarous Latin in dangcrio, and is common to Chaucer and our 
elder writers as well as to Shakspcare and his cotcmporarics. 



542 POEMS. BY GEORGE CAVENDISH. 

Wantyng learnyng, and of utterance rude, 
Which did never this enterprise entrude ; 
Trusty ng either of wytt or learnyng, 
But for an exercise, and non other thyng. 

FINIE ET COMPILE LE XXIIIJ JOUR DE JUNIJ 
A REGNOR PHILIPPI REX & REGINE MARIE IIIJTO & VT?4 

PER LE AUCTOR G. C. 

Novus Rex, nova Lex : Nova sola Regina, proiz pene ruina. 



4 By this is meant the Fourth Year of the Reign of Philip, and 
the Fifth of Queen Mary, answering to 1558. The Latin rhyming 
couplet Cavendish appears to have added after the commencement 
of Elizabeth's reign. Howr far from a true prophecy it proved, the 
long and prosperous reign of Elizabeth may witness. 



LONDON : 

PRINTED BY THOMAS DAVISON, IVHITEFRIARS, 



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